"You went to his apartment again."

I smile widely at my friend. "Yes, yes I did." He narrows his eyes. "But I didn't stay over."

"You didn't stay over." He confirms. "You're in a good mood too." Damn right I am.

"Mhmm."

Last night was great; despite not doing much. After our whole outburst and make-up session, we pretty much went back to drinking and chilling. Eric didn't bother to bring back up my originally foul mood and I didn't bother to elaborate on it. We moved past everything that happened and decided to watch some television. To anyone else, it's boring stuff. However to me, it was a joy to spend time with him doing nothing of importance.

"Should I even bother to pry?" Four asks.

I shrug my shoulders. "We didn't do anything, just talk and watch tv."

It's obvious he doesn't believe me. "Right…"

I give him a pursed smile. "Eric's a normal person too you know." Can't really blame Four for thinking I've gone insane, I wouldn't have believed it three weeks ago either.

"And he didn't try anything?" He asks warily.

My eyebrows knit together. "Why would he try anything?"

"Eric's the type to take what he wants." Four states flatly.

Although that's true, based on what I've seen and what everyone's been saying, Eric is also known for doing the exact opposite when he's around me. "Eh. Not yet." I lift a shoulder. The furthest thing we've done is lean against each other and maybe some very mild cuddling. "Where you taking me anyways?"

Four miraculously takes the bait and changes the subject. "Training room."

This is what he wants to do first thing in the morning? Does he not have a sparring buddy his size? Someone as skilled as him perhaps? "The training room was two turns away though." I point out, clearly bewildered.

"That's the initiates room. This one, is for the members." Four's voice holds an extremely unusual undercurrent of excitement. This is the first time I'm seeing him try to keep his calm composure together.

We stop outside the large double doors. "Have you heard of Chase Tag?"

I did overhear the Dauntless-born talking about it once, but I didn't get the gist of it except that the 'Lions' won the most recent tournament. "Is it anything like tag?" I ask.

"Something like that." Four pushes down the handle and gestures for me to enter. "Just Dauntless-style."

I'm not sure I like the sound of that.

The member's training room is far bigger than the initiates. Fighting rings, lockers, water stations, punching bags were mostly the same, except much higher in quantity. What the defining factor that separates the two rooms are the rock-climbing wall that seems to lack safety equipment, random obstacle courses, and the weird collection of ramps and platforms erected by poles at the furthest corner of the room.

There aren't many Dauntless around at this time of the day, most of which are sparring or competing against each other on scaling the walls. And when I walked through the doors, very few turn towards us, with those who did nodding in greeting.

I do my best to nod back like I belong here.

"This way." We are heading towards the cluster of ramps and platforms. From my childhood experience, tag is usually held in a wide open space with minimal obstacles to allow running and to reduce injury from collisions. Looking at the relatively small square ring now, this form of 'tag' seems to be the exact opposite.

"Chase tag is… in a nutshell… A game of tag using any means necessary." Four has his instructor voice turned on, but it's overlapped with his growing excitement. "Dauntless holds tournaments; free-for-all and friendly matches at the Ramp every night apart from Mondays, with the competitions being every weekend. It's a Dauntless sport, so it's quite the event." I glance between the instructor and the obstacles, feeling a bit sceptical on how fully-fledged Dauntless members would find a child's game exciting. "People who play – if not by himself – are usually in a team with three to six members."

We stop in front of the square ring. "You're in a team then?" I ask.

"Lions." He replies nonchalantly, side glancing me as he rest his hands on his hips. I blink. "I take that you've heard of us then?" An out-of-character smirk spreads onto his face.

"Something like that."

"For team tournaments, we play a total of twelve rounds per match. Each round lasts a maximum of twenty seconds, with the minimum depending on how long it takes to tag the opponent. You'll typically play two rounds consecutively. The first round as the Tagger and the second as the 'Evader' or in simple terms, the runner. If you manage to successfully evade the round, you'll continue to stay on for the following rounds until you get tagged."

The rules seem simple enough… for now.

"The goals are simple. As the Tagger, your aim is to tag the opponent by simply touching them on any part of their body or clothing with your hand before the twenty seconds end, the time immediately stops when you do. While as for the Evader, your goal is to evade the Tagger until the twenty seconds is up."

Twenty seconds is a ridiculously long time given the size of the ring. "The tricky part is this: You are allowed use anything in the ring to your advantage. That includes going over, under, and through the platforms, ramps and poles.

To obtain a point, you must successfully complete an evasion. No point is given when you tag the opponent."

"So speed and size wins the match?" I muse. The game seems interesting, especially since that it doesn't have a brutal aspect to it – I think.

"Agility, reflexes and brains." Four corrects. "You need the ability to quickly access all possible escape routes and carry it out without ramming head-first into a pole, and also be able to predict where your opponent will move next." Right.

I step into the ring and feel the poles. They are padded with a decent layer of foam, no doubt just thick enough to prevent a broken nose. Climbing onto the platforms, I try to familiarize myself with the feeling of climbing up and sliding down from them. Training with my dogs have sure given me a head start on agility, but this is a whole new level. Dodging and being able to jump from platform to platform is a far cry from side stepping a running dog or an incoming hit.

"This is a relatively small and simple ring compared to the actual one at the Ramp, but it's a good place to start first." Wait, we're doing this now? I watch in complete horror as Four moves to the other end of the ring. "We'll start of slow... I'm the Tagger. Let's begin."

Either my ears have a tendency of slotting in unsaid words, or Four definition of slow is fast. Everything muscle in my body tenses as I watch with wide eyes at the man who's swinging himself over the narrow platforms and rapidly closing the distance between us. Why did I agree to follow him at the first place?

Four is from Lions – last weekend's winning team. It must be some sick joke to place a rookie with a veteran like him. Does Eric do this for fun too? Do Dauntless members come here to play the sport in order to feel superior?

Only when Four's a mere five feet away with his arm about to stretch out does adrenaline kick in. Panic fills me as I shriek and dive to the left, under the a square platform. The pain from heavy landing doesn't register before I'm already scrambling onto my feet and grabbing a nearby pole to launch myself further away from Four. A quick glance over my shoulder shows Four redirecting his path. I grab two more poles and hoist myself up another wide platform, wasting no time running down a narrow elevated path towards the opposite side of the room. This is some kind of predator and prey survival chase, and I don't think I'll survive much longer.

Four's only a few feet away from me now. My heart thunders in my chest as I hop off the platform and make a desperate scram to the other side of the room. How does one voluntarily join a sport where they run for their lives? Then as I was passing another elevated platform, a large shadow looms over me. Random scenes of my life flashes over me as the hand of death comes flying down. This is it.

"Tag."

I groan and collapse onto the floor like a beaten-up puppy. "How long was that?"

Four glances at the watch I've never seen him wear. "About twelve seconds."

Twelve seconds only? That felt like a solid half a minute.

But being able to evade for twelve seconds is a solid start. "That's not too bad for a beginner right?"

"It's pretty bad." Four rests his forearms onto the railing above and stares down at me. "And I did go easy on you too."Just the confidence boost I needed. "But it's a decent start. At least you didn't freeze on the spot."

That wasn't the tiniest bit reassuring. "What am I doing this for anyways?" Four has his own team already, so what's the point on introducing the sport to me?

His eyes light up like he's been expecting this question. "Oh, there's a tournament tomorrow night and Lynn has to help her mom. So you're the sub." For a person who takes his instructor job very seriously, Four seems awfully casual about placing me without consent and without experience into Dauntless' winning team. "Tournament starts from eight evening all the way up to eleven. I'll bring you there tonight to see this week's layout."

I squint at the man. "Did it not occur to you that I might not want to join your team? Especially with my final exam being the following morning?"

Instead of being apologetic, Four cocks his head and points to me. "You would've said yes anyways."

Well that's beside the point.

He continues to blabber on. "And also, I bet you're growing bored with running laps and punching inanimate objects every evening." Scowling comes easy to me, mainly because he is right.

"On the bright side – as if this wasn't already bright enough – you get points for winning and you make friends while at it." Four sounds awfully lot like John. However unlike John, I can't tackle Four to the ground for what he just said.

The Ramp is relatively packed with people considering that it's a work day. Four did mention that the Dauntless tend to spend their free time one of the three following places: The Pit, The Ramp and The Ring – I have an educated guess on what the last one is.

Staring at the two 12x12 meter square rings, I realise that the one in the training room might as well be for toddlers. In place of the foam covered poles and cushioned floors are black metal ones and shiny wooden flooring; stuff that could definitely break noses and scrap knees. Other than the obvious change in obstacle placement, Four did mention that flooring material changes every tournament as well, to provide more variation.

As if everything wasn't already ridiculous enough, the rows of bleachers add to that. From a cursory glance, there is no doubt of its capacity to hold more than half of the Dauntless population, making this the second biggest hall I've seen around here. There are high definition flat screens mounted up above the rings, providing a better view when the real matches start. With all the lighting, equipment, speakers and high ceilings, this place only lacks a snack station to complete the whole stadium vibe.

All in all, as preposterous and somewhat dangerous this 'game' is, I have to admit that the effort place into this is superb.

A childish male's voice gains our attention. "Four! Four!" My head turns towards the general direction of the source, locating a dark-skinned male pushing his way to us. "The teams are up, and I don't think you'll like what you'll see." Despite his words, the man still seems pretty cheerful about it. At first glance, the young man seems young and immature; someone I wouldn't willingly associate myself with.

This must be Uriah.

Four did brief me on his teammates – Zeke, Uriah and Lynn – but didn't say much about them other than their looks. "Oh hey! You must be Anna." Uriah stops three feet away from me and sticks out his hand. I've yet to master the handshake. "I'm Uriah." He introduces. I try not to stare at the way our hands awkwardly wiggle together. Uriah then gestures the air. "So, what do you think?"

I force myself to move past the traumatic handshake experience. "It's urm…" My eyes drift to the pair of players in the ring closest to me. They move fast, jumping over obstacles like it doesn't require a substantial amount of upper body and arm strength to perform such move sets. There is not a single doubt in me that I wouldn't last a solid ten seconds. "…intimidating."

Uriah looks over his shoulder to follow my line of sight. "Ah. Well, that's perfectly normal for anyone who hasn't done it themselves. The pair right here is a typical match, doesn't really get easier than this unless you're up with the young dependants." The moment the words leaves his tongue, blood drains from my face.

Is this what Riley feels like on a daily basis?

A nudge from my shoulder informs me that I've been standing frozen on the spot while Uriah had walked back to where he came from. I nervously follow behind Four, feeling like a lamb in the lion's den.

There was absolutely no way I was going to make it here. Even though Four and I spent the most of the day practicing, all my confidence came crashing when the moment I entered the stadium. The men playing now are far better than me and it's only a practice.

"So, which are the teams tomorrow?" We've stopped in a small empty space near the bleachers. This is probably where the teams wait out their turns. Uriah stands next to another dark-skinned man that resembles him – Zeke.

Instead of replying Four's question, Zeke's eye light up as he roughly shoves Four – my comfort blanket – aside, exposing me. "Ah yes. First jumper and peace-lover Anna. It's a pleasure to meet you." Zeke dramatically bows and takes my hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. I stare oddly at the man and Four, unsure of what to do.

Thankfully, the moment doesn't last long, as Zeke straightens up just as quick as he bowed. "And here I thought Four was just lying to me to get me off his back. Had I known that he had you in mind, I wouldn't have set him up for so many blind dates." Zeke breaks his dreamy voice to glare at his friend accusingly. "And you're joining us too, what a great catch." He sighs dramatically, placing a hand over his heart.

My brain lags as I attempt to process his words and implications. Luckily, Four seems to be slightly better at situations like these. "No, we're not-"

A finger is pressed to his lips. It's amazing to see Zeke pull off a feat without the fear of being punched in the face. "Shh, it's alright." The bold man turns to me and whispers in an overly-sweet motherly voice. "You see, Four here is pretty bad when it comes to girls, but I'm sure you're well aware of that. Nonetheless, I assure you that no matter what he says, he actually cares for you deep," he places a firm hand on his heart to illustrate, "deep down."

My face turns beet red. I hope with all my heart that Four does not have feelings for me like Zeke proclaim he does. "We're not together at all." I clarify. "Strictly just friends." I side glance at Four for confirmation.

Please tell me this isn't what it looks like.

He nods with a bit more force than necessary. "Yes, strictly just friends. Just like me and you." Four blurts out to Zeke, who's eyes dart between us sceptically.

Panic does unexpected things to a person, and this is something not even Four can avoid. "Plus, she's also wit-"

"And… We aren't going to discuss my private life right now." I interrupt abruptly, eyes fully blown out by how Four almost exposed my uncertain relationship with his enemy.

Four seems to realise his mistake, as he quickly clamps his mouth shut and shoots me an apologetic look. "So you're taken?" Uriah pipes quizzically over his brother's shoulder.

I blink. I'm not sure what exactly is going on between me and Eric, other than the fact that I agreed to try things out with him. So in terms of labels, 'taken' doesn't quite fit. Maybe 'occupied' or 'in-progress'? "Erm… I mean… I thin-"

"Yes. Yes she is." Four replies for me. "See? No hard feelings from me, meaning there aren't any romantic feelings between us."

Thank the heavens.

Zeke narrows his eyes at his friend and takes a step towards him until they're almost chest-to-chest. "You're a complete numbskull you hear me?" It is the common assumption that Zeke meant the words to be heard only between the two of them, but judging by how Uriah yelled 'complete pansycake' right after, I don't think it quite worked.

Either way, the dark-skinned man didn't seem to mind the eavesdroppers as he immediately steps back like nothing happened. "I'm gonna hit up Stacy by the way, next week, Friday night." He proclaims, lifting an eyebrow to dare Four to object.

Anyone who can do this to the Fearsome Four is definitely a friend of mine.

Zeke shifts his attention to me, voicing becoming extremely gruff and haunting. "So Anna. Four tells me that you have the potential in joining our top Tag team – the Lions. Do show us-"

Four interjects impatiently, already recovered from his minute of shock. "Get a move on. She's already frightened as it is already."

I flush from embarrassment.

Like a switch, Uriah shoves his older brother aside and takes over. "Welcome to the team! Do ignore what my idiot bro-"

"You're the idiot brother!" said man retorts.

Zeke's whine falls on deaf ears. "-ther says. We mostly play for fun than competition; and also occasionally win while we're at it." Uriah winks and I try not to cringe. "Chase tag is not as scary as it looks; once you get the hang of it. The burst of adrenaline you get the moment a match starts will definitely make you as capable as what you see up there." Despite the reassurance, I still doubt his words, for I recall practicing with Four and still not being able to be as fast as them.

"We signed up for the tournament tomorrow because Zeke and I need a bit more credits to buy our mother a gift." I guess that's sweet; erratic tendencies ignored. "No stress though, just need to beat two or three teams and we're good."

Ha; right.

Zeke pulls out a tablet and places it on the square tablet in front of us. Tapping a few things here and there, he pulls out a list of animal names which I assume represent other teams. "Tomorrow's competition is not looking too bad." For the first time this past five minutes, Zeke sounds like a normal person. "We should be about to beat or tie with everyone except the Sharks; I'm not too confident about them." I stare at the eight names in front of me, already feeling nauseous at the thought of having to beat each one of the other seven teams. It really does suck being the weakest link for once – even if the rest don't seem bothered by it.

"Sharks again?" Four asks. "Let me look at that." The perplexed man taps the screen like the name would suddenly flicker off. And as predicted, it doesn't. "What's with Axel being here all the time? Is he taking a break or something?"

Zeke lifts a shoulder and twists his hands. "Beats me. We will probably be facing them at one point or another, it's just a matter of when."

I definitely don't like the sound of that.

A/N

Just wanna thank everyone who's favourited and followed the story ^^ Really appreciate the support :) (I'm pretty crap at expressing gratitude haha .-.)

Chase tag is an actual thing, stumbled upon it on snapchat. It's called World Chase Tag. (Credits go to them.) It's really hard to stop watching once it starts because of how short and compelling the matches are. I hope you guys understand how the game works, if you don't, please do tell me so I can describe it in more detail. :P

Next update is on the 30th :)