Never would I have thought that Dauntless members of all ages would be so invested in such a sport. The bleachers today are jammed back with people, everyone squashed together like sardines. Though Four did mention that a good chunk of the audience are family or friends of the participants, I'm still shell-shocked at the vast amount.

Standing beneath the slightly elevated ring where Uriah plays as the Evader, I can't help but feel the same sense of dread I've felt every moment before my match starts. For a beginner, I've apparently made 'decent' progress, which is losing to four evasions out of the ten I've faced so far. Four has reassured me every time I walk out of the ring as the failed-Tagger that giving the opposing team a point was nothing. But it is something, especially when I quickly caught on that evasions are generally rare in occurrence. So far, we've lost the once out of three matches, with me being the cause of it – not that the trio would ever admit it aloud.

Currently, we are up against the Sharks; the final match-up of the night for us. Zeke did explain to me that each team will face four other teams in a tournament, with the determining factor on the rankings being the number of teams beaten and successful evasions. I guess we can kiss the number one spot goodbye.

Uriah manages to seal an evasion and the crowd goes wild. It's the first evasion from the Sharks this whole night. A deafening horn blows to signal the end of the twenty seconds. Uriah's win is good – as winning allows him to stay another round – this gives me another minute of mental preparation before it's my turn. The ecstatic dependent clasps his opponent's hand and pats his back before fist bumping the air. On the raised arm is a narrow strip of mustard-colored band that clings onto his bicep, a visible mark of his team. My eyes flicker to the identical one on my sleeved-arm, feeling unworthy of such a significant emblem.

Axel is Silver.

According to Uriah, Eric's friend is quite a force to be reckoned with. And from what I've seen so far, the silver-haired man is the most volatile and versatile player out of everyone here. If I thought Four was fast, he was undoubtedly faster. He has the ability to outcompete anyone in his path with an unwavering smirk on his face; and it's quite nerve-racking.

There are two things that are common knowledge when it comes to Axel. The first; the team never plays without him. The second; the team always win when they do. Which was why it was such a huge deal when the Lions won the previous tournament. I don't think the rest of my team particularly enjoys living in the shadows of their accomplishments, and that's all because of me. It is obvious that the team did not need another member just because Lynn couldn't participate. Four himself said that Tag teams consist of three to six members, so I wasn't really needed in order for the team to play. Lynn's absence is more of an excuse than anything really.

Self-wallowing aside, another thing I unintentionally learned from Uriah's rambling is that Axel is the head of the patrol sector; hence he is often rotating between factions to keep security up to date. In simpler terms, as Zeke deem me unable to grasp the concept, Axel is basically the head 'police' of Chicago.

Uriah's next opponent is a big blurry man. It is rare to find bulky bodybuilders in Chase Tag, mainly because large muscle tends to be more of a disadvantage in a game of speed and mobility. This man didn't play in the previous rounds, a sign that he is a back-up or secret weapon; and I can see why.

Uriah loses to the bulky man, missing the miniscule opportunity to dodge the man and getting himself cornered. This situation of being cornered with only an obstacle separating isn't often a disadvantage, but with someone that's large enough to cover all exits with a lurch, it means certain death.

Luckily for me, I'm everything this man isn't – small and agile, a huge advantage of being the Tagger. Assessing the thirteen seconds of him in action, I've already located his movement habits and weaknesses. Uriah wishes me good luck with a pant, appearing slightly rattled by his experience. I give him a tight-lipped smile and step onto the ring. Should I play this right, the bulky man won't be able to escape my grasp.

The match starts out with me cornering him, like every match does unless inexperienced. But unlike the effect he had on Uriah earlier, I am unable to catch him as he sidesteps the square obstacle and slips away from our deadlock. Improvising quickly, I hop over the low raised barriers, copying the footsteps he made a mere second ago.

I seize the opportunity the moment I see it. Four's advice to me was to go under, not over, after seeing that me climbing over the un-hopable platforms was wasting precious time. My first few tries at the technique was difficult since it was difficult to slide in foam mats, but with the tournaments polished-wooden flooring, I am able to pull it off with the help of long sleeve shirts.

I belly-flop under the platform the moment the man's second foot leaves the ground. The momentum built from the running slides me forward right underneath where my opponent is transferring. Instinctively, my hand stretches out above my head and reaches towards the other end of the platform.

His foot lands exactly as I predicted and the match ends.

A large hand is extended above my head as I take my time to crawl out. My defeated opponent pulls me up and congratulates me while I acknowledge that it was a good match. Hand-shaking has now become normal for me. It's extremely difficult to feel anything negative after a match with how the contagious the opposite party's glee is regardless of the result. Every single match I've seen ends with wide grins, handshakes and friendly hugs, a perfect environment to minimalize hard-feelings and making people like me, feel accepted.

So despite my losses, I can't help admit that I did have fun either way, and that the environment here gives me the encouragement I need to continue on.

However, my victory doesn't last long.

The next opponent I'm facing is the Shark himself – Axel. Though we've never formally introduced or interact, I can't help but feel an impending sense of doom and embarrassment by how our first social interaction consisted of me being tipsy.

The lean man trots up to the stage with his eyes hard and I unconsciously take a step back in spite of the fact that I was already across the ring. There was no wide grin he gave me the first time he saw me at the cafeteria or anyone else he's been up against with tonight, nor any friendly gesture to indicate openness. My eyes flicker down to my teammates as a desperate cry for help, but they can't see what I'm seeing from where they're standing. There is not a single doubt in me that Axel's expression is more than just an intimidation tactic, it's personal.

And I have no idea why.

The invisible announcer booms through the extensive sound system. "Chasers to the ready!"

The horn blares too quickly for me to scuff my memory for answers. Alarm bells go off my head as the veteran swiftly closes the distance between us. Even if the nature of the game protects players from getting harmed by the other, I'm not sure if this rule applies to all-stars like him. I hope this rule applies to him.

We're in a deadlock – just like how most matches start.

"Eric's girl, yeah?" The volume and tone of his voice tells me that he's been planning this conversation for a while now, as no one else could hear him except me.

My mouth grows dry and I break out in a cold sweat. Out of all the things he could've brought up instead, he goes straight into one of the only people that I truly care about. He leaps over the platform separating us, resulting in me jerking to the side and scramming the other direction.

I'm no fool to believe that I pulled-off the maneuver without his mercy.

A millisecond glance over my shoulder informs me that Axel is only a few feet away from me. Making a hasty decision, I climb onto the platform in front of me and scramble to my feet. I push off the platform to land on another adjacent to it. It was my assumption that my opponent would've copied me, which would've have increased the chances of an evasion. Instead, Axel follows me from below, causing my plan to backfire immediately. Seeing that my legs are awfully exposed to tagging, I hop down the moment I reach a wide platform.

We're back in a deadlock, and I wish that's all Axel wanted to know – whether I was Eric's 'girl'. But of course, Axel wasn't quite done with me yet. "I don't know what you're playing at…" Instantly, my body freezes. I'm not playing anything.

To anyone else, it would seem like Axel is just taunting me while I try formulate a plan to escape. But to me, it feels like the man is holding me at gunpoint.

"…but Eric doesn't need another drunk, liar and cheater in his life." I stare at him stunned. Is this what I look like to Eric? Is this what he sees in me? "So, if I were you, I would. Back. The. Fuck. Off."

My knees suddenly go weak and I stumble backwards, red hot pain flashing from my tailbone. The menacing appearance my opponent had disappears like a switch. I can't even react when he reaches between horizontal bars to tap my bended knee.

His threat was loud and clear, but that's not what I'm speechless over. I am confused; I am horrified; I am ashamed.

A horn blares from a distance.

Four hoists me up to my feet, concerned eyes scanning my face. "You alright?"

My heart thumps heavily in my chest as Axel's words sinks in. I need to leave; now. "Yeah, I'm fine." A forced chuckle escapes me. "Just tripped over my feet in panic. Haha. You should go, by the way, you're up next." Four opens his mouth to reply, but a quick glance at the impatient referee indicates that he's distracted. I turn away before he can say anything, climbing under the ropes to exit the ring.

Zeke is the next to check up on me. "Hey, you took a big fall earlier, you okay?"

At this stage, everything has suddenly gone numb. "Yeah. I think I'm going to head back to the dorms, feeling a bit tired and all." Even my words are flat.

Zeke is thrown off guard. "Oh, err, right. Fear landscape tomorrow. Err… good luck on that."

All I can manage out is a nod before I'm already pushing my way towards the exit.

Axel is Eric's close friend. Is this what Eric tells him? That I'm a liar and drunk? For cheater, I'm guessing that it's because of Liam or that I'm hanging with Four here in Chase Tag. Maybe he couldn't bear hurt my feelings directly and asked if Axel could do it for him, since Axel is his friend after all. I'm not even mad if he did, for I can see where he's coming from.

I've barely just exited the Ramp when another voice calls for me.

Right at the doorway, stands the man who makes me questions everything I am and believes in, disheveled. It's almost like he just went through great lengths to catch up with me; though, I'm not sure if it's an act.

When I don't reply, he calls again. "Anna." As he begins to moves towards me, it dawns on me that Eric is last person I need right now. Every time he's around, I'm unable to form coherent thoughts. "Anna, hey-"

My hand stretches out to stop him in his tracks, and he mercifully does just that. "I'm fine." We can't do this, it isn't healthy. "I'm fine."

He merely grabs my wrist and pulls my arm down, stepping too close for me to be comfortable with. "You're not fine." He states, slate grey staring down into my own.

"I just trip, that's all." I need to get away from him; I must get away from him. What am I supposed to believe? What Axel says or the way he acts now – gentle and distressed over my wellbeing?

He sees right through me, like he always does. If I could do the same for him, I would be as conflicted as I am half the time. "Sure as hell didn't seem like it. What happened?"

I start backing away. It is vital to separate myself from Eric as quickly as possible. I want to head to the dorms, to rest and forget about everything from the moment Axel stepped onto the ring. "Nothing." My voice is an octave higher than normal. I'm lying again, just like what Axel said I am. "Nothing happened. I just- I just need to head back to rest; I have a big day tomorrow."

Eric seizes my shoulders to stop me from moving. "No," he growls. "You're not going back in this state." Any day before today, my heart would've swelled at his words; but this time, his actions confuse me and I have to force myself to stare blankly at him. "Something happened earlier…" His brows furrow in thought.

I steel myself from all emotions as he racks his brain for the answer.

Perhaps I am overthinking this. Perhaps it's not Eric who thinks I'm a liar, drunk and cheater, but Axel instead. Perhaps I have been reading Eric like he reads me, just that I find it difficult to believe what others don't see. But even if these are true, Axel's words have been too deeply ingrained into my brain to be dismissed as untrue.

After a few beats of silence, his frown disappears in realization. "Axel said something to you." Just like our whole conversation tonight, he manages to answer the question himself. "What did he say?"

"Nothing that isn't true."

That isn't a lie. Axel's words had woken me up. I had been so selfish all this time, thinking about how Eric isn't good enough for me that I never considered myself being good enough for him. Axel was right; Eric deserves better than a drunk. He shouldn't be with someone that can't keep themselves together when the going gets tough. He shouldn't be picking up after someone who've wasted the night away. He shouldn't be carrying someone back to his apartment just because she doesn't want to sleep at her own – a petty princess who complains about others' suffering.

Eric deserves better than a liar too. He shouldn't be with someone who knows he's been looking hopelessly for her and chooses to do nothing about it. He shouldn't be with someone who claims would give a shot to the relationship but still has doubts at the back of her head. He shouldn't be with someone who intentionally keeps secrets from him.

Hell. Not even I would date me.

Eric is capable. Eric is smart. Eric is caring and Eric has a heart.

Which is exactly why he deserves someone far better than me; and I've never felt so flawed in my entire life.

"What. Did. He. Say?" The man in front of me asks the question slowly; trepidation is visibly growing on his face.

Why does it matter? "I think we shouldn't do this." I say.

Eric's nose flares as he jerks back incredulous. "Axel told you that?"

"No, I decided that myself." No longer am I going to continue being selfish by holding him back. He should find someone good, someone true, and someone who fully believes in him.

The hands on my shoulders tightened to an almost bruising force. "No."

My head tilts in confusion. "No?" This is his golden getaway ticket, an open door to walk out a free man – a man who deserves better.

"Yes no. I don't believe for a second that you decided that by yourself and no, we are not doing this again." He growls. "You said we'll give this a shot. And therefore, we will give this a shot."

My brows knit together as I stare back at him. Why does he still want me if I push him away so often? "Yes, but I've changed my mind and I-"

I'm pulled into a hug.

The hug is unfamiliar yet familiar all at once. It's as if it wasn't a new milestone we've surpassed, progress on the shaky ground. It's warm and soft, the exact opposite as how everyone else views Eric.

"You're not leaving."

Being so up close, Eric smells of safety - as if everything will be alright as long as I'm with him.

And I want that.

I want to be selfish. I want to keep him to myself; this wonderful man that no one else sees. What's selfish anyways? Denying what both of us want or remaining as we are?

There isn't really a right answer to it, is there?

"I don't know." I say.

His head is buried in my hair. "You said you didn't want anything more than to give this a shot. What's there to not know?"

What is there to not know? He likes me and I like him, isn't that all that matters now? He must see something in me to want to keep me around, right?

The prolonged silence and my inability to reply makes Eric speak up. "You overthink too much."

"I guess I do." I sigh, finally encircling my arms around his waist. Eric's form engulfs me, just like my thoughts and feelings for him. But for now, it's just the right amount. Unlike me, who's thoughts are running miles an hour, his are simple. To him, there isn't much to it; which is that he likes me and that's all that matters. And that's all that really matters.

He presses his lips to my forehead. "Then don't." His solution is simple; I need that simplicity in my life.

Maybe he's right, I've been overthinking everything and letting every tiny thing get into my head. Maybe I shouldn't overthink it, and just go with the flow.

A/N

If there's anything that confuses you (whether its a particular scene or plot line) please do tell me. I appreciate feedback and will work on it. It is my first time writing a full fledged story, so I get slightly self-concious on whether I'm getting the flow of words right ':P

A-levels is starting this Saturday, so I think i'll be really busy in general. I am hoping to update this Sunday. (Really depends on my progress with my writing)

The next chapter was pretty hellish. Well, writing this chapter was pretty hellish too, particularly the last scene. My brain lags when I have to write emotional-anger filled scenes because I'm trying to figure out how to translate the feeling into words and also how the character should react.

I'm also mildly aware that Anna is going around in circles and that their relationship is progressing really slowly haha .-. I shall attempt to work on that. Hopefully I'll able to put an end to that in the chapter i'm writing (chapter 23)