Dead and Gone Chapter 1: Prologue, a divergent trilogy fanfic

DISCLAIMER: DIVERGENT AND ALL OF IT'S CHARACTERS BELONG TO VERONICA ROTH!

(Tris POV)

"Ooh, I've been travelin' on this road too long
Just trying to find, my way back home
The old me, is dead and gone, dead and gone
And ooh, I've been travelin' on this road too long
Just trying to find, my way back home
The old me, is dead and gone, dead and gone

Ever had one of dem days, you wish woulda' stayed home
Run into a group of niggas, getting they hate on
You walk by, they get wrong you reply
Then shit get blown
Way outta proportion, way past discussion
Just you against them, pick one then rush 'em
Figure you'll get your head ?
That next, they don't wanna stop
There now they bussin', now you gushin', ambulance
Rushin' you to the hospital, with a bad concussion
Plus ya hit four times, plus it hit ya
Spine paralyzed waist down, now ya wheel chair bound
Never mind that now, you lucky to be alive
Just think it all started you, fussin' with three guys
Now ya pride in the way, but ya pride is the way you
Could fuck around, get shot die any day
Niggas die, every day all over
Bull shit dope money dice, game ordinary hood shit
Could this be, 'cause of hip hop music
Or did the ones, with the good sense
Not use it, usually niggas
Don't know what to do, when their back against the wall
So they just start shootin'
For red or for blue or for blo' I guess
From Bankhead or from your projects
No more stress, now I'm straight
Now I get it now I take time to think
Before I make mistakes, just for my family's sake
That part of me left yesterday, the heart of me is strong today
No regrets I'm blessed to say, the old me dead and gone away

Ooh, I've been travelin' on this road too long
Just trying to find, my way back home
The old me, is dead and gone, dead and gone
And ooh, I've been travelin' on this road too long
Just trying to find, my way back home
The old me, is dead and gone, dead and gone

I ain't never been scared, I live through tragedy
Situation coulda been dead, lookin' back at it
Most of that shit, didn't even have to happen
But you don't think about it, when you out there trappin'
In apartments hangin', smokin' and rappin'
Niggas start shit didn't, next thing ya know we cappin'
Get locked up, then didn't even get mad
Now think about damn, what a life I had
Most of that shit, look back just laugh
Some shit, still look back just sad
Maybe my homeboy, 'till be around
Had I not, hit the nigga
In the mouth that time, I won that fight, I lost that war
I can still see my nigga, walkin' out that door
Who'da thought I'd never see, Philant no more
Got enough dead homies, I don't want no more
Cost a nigga his job, cost me more
Ida took that ass-whoopin', now for sure
Now think before I risk my life
Take them chances to get my stripe
A nigga put his hands on me alright
Otherwise stand there, talk shit all night
'Cause I hit you, you sue me
I shoot you, get locked up, who me?
No more stress, now I'm straight
Now I get it now I take
Time to think, before I make mistakes
Just for my family's sake
That part of me left yesterday
The heart of me is strong today
No regrets I'm blessed to say
The old me dead and gone away

I turn my head to the east
I don't see nobody by my side
I turn my head to the west
Still nobody in sight
So I turn my head to the north
Swallow that pill
That they call pride
The old me is dead and gone
But the new me will be alright
I turn my head to the east
I don't see nobody by my side
I turn my head to the west
Still nobody in sight
So I turn my head to the north
Swallow that pill
That they call pride
The old me is dead and gone,
But the new me will be alright

There goes my favorite song on the radio at the club. Great job, right? Especially at sixteen years old. At least I don't have to be one of the strippers. I just serve drinks behind the bar. I've always loved this song. I'm hoping in the future, the old me is dead and gone. But, my future isn't looking so bright right now and I can't give up anything that I'm doing right now. I have to take care of myself. I'm pretty anti-social. I don't trust anybody. I live alone in my own apartment in the damn ghetto and I'm pretty sure nobody would want to interfere with anyone around. Fuck, I can't even look anyone's way. Even if it's just by surprise. They'll skin you alive.

I hate getting to the part of the song that says "Time to think, before I make mistakes. Just for my family's sake". Yea, it's too late now.Because of me, my parents are dead. And to clean up my mistakes now? For their sake? My parents wouldn't care anymore, I'm sure. I was the cause of their death. They can't love me anymore.

I sigh as I finish wiping down the last table for the night. I walk to the back room behind the bar and dispose of the rag into the basket needed for washing. Peter Hayes takes care of that. God, I hate working with him. His appearance is really different from his personality. His appearance gives off angelic features even though on the outside, he's an asshole. He is tall with dark, shiny hair that always gleams. He has a wide, white smile, his nose is long with a narrow bridge and his eyes are wide and dark green. However, those looks are very misleading. He is extremely cruel, jealous, and ambitious.

What the hell am I saying? I shouldn't even be talking crap. I'm no better myself. I have a narrow face, grayish-blue eyes that are wide and round, and a long, thin nose. I have straight blonde hair that frames her face, a long neck, and knobby-knuckled hands. The only thing interesting about me is the three ravens I have tattooed on my collarbone. I got them for each family I left behind. My mother, Natalie, my father, Andrew, and my brother, Caleb. Well, Caleb left me behind but I deserve it.

And talking about attitude? Well my attitude is no better. I'm probably the dumbest, selfish person you will ever meet but I could care less. You will never get close to me or in my life so it's not a problem for me. So yea, I guess I am selfish and what's worse is I was born not to be.

I'm nothing pretty. Nothing special. Just there. Alive and breathing. Even though I'm struggling to stay alive.

My name is Beatrice Prior but I only want people to call me Tris. Well, beside when I'm doing my dirty work. My clients only will address me as "Six". Yea, I know, stupid name but I need something so that can't get the cops on me. I decided the name "Six" because each one is the memory for the only people I cared for in my life. My mom, my dad, Caleb, My neighbors Susan and Robert her were my friends when I was younger, and a school friend I had when I was younger, Christina. However, I haven't seen her in years. Once I turned sixteen, I dropped out of school and ran away. I know in the beginning I said I was sixteen but now I'm almost seventeen. What was I supposed to do? Stay at school and be noticed for the selfish person I am? While your family can no longer be there for you?

You may think it's nothing. It's only been half a year. Yea. Well it's also been half a year since I secretly got an apartment on my own, have hidden from the cops, and gotten my own jobs. I may live in a bad area but at least it's affordable and as long as you fuck with no one, you won't get hurt. We don't rat each other out unless you want to get hurt. I'm happy that's all I have to worry about because I don't hang out with anyone. I don't have to worry about the rest; prostitution, gangs, shootings, etc. But I do have a dangerous job I guess.

You think I would just be able to make my money to live just working at the bar? Ha! I have my own side job which gets me butt loads of money. I'm a drug dealer. I'm very careful with who I deal with, however. In this area, I'm the place to go for drugs because I only make the best. Although, not everyone gets it. If I don't trust them or somewhere along the line, I won't give them drugs and I never get caught with the police or cause any problems with anybody else around here.

I know what you might be thinking. But wouldn't they know already and rat you out? Truth is, you can be known for it around here but rumors spread through fast. And not every one of them is true. So if someone I didn't like were to come up to me, I would just act like the whole time I didn't know why they were talking to me and acted like I'm an innocent person with no drugs.

I take off my work clothes and change into my regular clothes. That's another one of the reasons I hate working here. Someone could see me changing and I could do nothing about it. I can't demand them to do anything or get forceful. I would take the clothes home to clean them but this this place is owned by my cheapskate boss and he would never settle for us losing any of the clothes. Or so he says…I just think he's a sick fuck.

I jump up when I hear Peter's malicious voice behind me. "About done, Stiff? Hurry the hell up. By you taking too much time, you're wasting more of my time and I have to stay here longer than you. I have plans tonight."

Stiff. God, I hate that nickname he has for me. It's a way of saying that I only live one way and don't do anything fun in my life. I just live a boring life to him. Yea, well at least I don't have as big of a chance of getting shot unlike him.

"Whatever, Peter. The only "plans" you have is to go be a sick asshole and fuck a prostitute. I wouldn't be surprised if you have STDS." I say and roll my eyes.

I can feel the tension in the room and as I look to Peter, he has a deadly glare on his face and I can see the heat radiating off of him. "At least I can get in bed with someone." He bites back.

He's so childish. I breathe in deeply to keep my cool as I lace up my shoes. I throw my work clothes at him and walk out. "Bye, asshole." I say as I grab my tips from the counter and leave the bar.

I pull my hoodie on as I get outside and pull my hood over my head. I have to make one more stop before I go to my apartment. I pass the train tracks and take a detour three blocks away from my apartment to see one of my clients. I don't use alleyways unlike other cliché and stupid first-timers or other drug dealers. I meet every client at the same run down, abandoned building. That way, our conversations can be private.

I start to jog since it's almost midnight and well, the hood comes alive at night. Parties, drugs, drinkers, car races, rap battles, you name it. I'm not going to lie though; I did love watching the rap battles. People seem to believe that leads to violence but that's bull. It can but it normally doesn't unless you get two violent enemies together. Besides that, it's all cool between everyone and even though they insult each other, they understand it's nothing personal or they know just not to take it that way.

I reach the building, knock on the door six times, and it opens. "Hey, Six. Where's the drugs." My client asks.

His name is Tyler and he is a muscular man. He's ok looking to me. I've never been one for caring about looks. It's always been about personality and no one has ever caught my eye to be a love interest or something. Love? Am I even capable of that?

Most people like him don't seem to take me seriously once they meet me but thanks to the rumors, whether they are believed or not, I've made a name around here and at sixteen, I could brag. But I'm not stupid enough to do that. Plus, I'm not one for attention.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Show me the money first. You know better." I say in my authoritative voice.

He sighs and takes out his money, handing it over to me. I count $200 and nod. "I can give you an eight ball." I say.

"You're too damn expensive." He huffs.

"Would you rather trust me or some beginner around here?" I ask as I hand over the baggy of cocaine. I don't even know why I surround myself with drugs. I don't use them and the smell of them gives me a damn headache. But like I said, it pays. And it pays well.

"You're as much of a beginner as anyone else here." Tyler says, crossing his arms and tilting his head slightly.

"And I've done a better job than most so far." I say with a smile as I walk out of the building.

I jog the three and a half blocks back to my apartment. It would let all of the steam off of me from the day so far and I enjoy running. As I run back, I watch as all the prostitutes come out, the guys, the drinks, the yelling. When I get to my complex, I walk up the steps and unlock my door. I walk in, lock the door, and throw myself onto my bed. I'm so, damn, exhausted. I hear the shouting outside as my lids start to close but I've gotten so used to it now. It's a lullaby.

I groan as I hear my annoying loud alarm beeping. I peek my eyes open to see its 7:00 a.m. I slam my hand down on the alarm to shut it off and the rickety wooden night stand beneath it, rocks a bit. I throw my comforter off of my body and sit up unwillingly. My muscles are so tense from sleeping on this hard mattress and rickety springs. I roll my neck and stretch my arms to pop my muscles in my neck and back.

I jump up and go to my bathroom. I turn on the water, brush my teeth and strip of my clothes before getting in the shower. It takes way too long to get just warm. Not hot, warm. I relish in the only moment I have of serenity during my whole day as the water hits my back.

After taking a shower, I dry up and get dressed in my grey tank top and sweatpants. I dry my hair and brush it out before putting my hoodie on and pulling the hood over my head. I grab my keys and walk out of my apartment, locking it behind me. I walk down the stairs then start running to the bar once I hit the ground. I usually have about fifteen minutes to get there and change so I hurry as fast as I can.

Once I get to the club, I go behind the bar and speed walk to the back and change into my work clothes which Peter put in my bag for me. I have no problem with that because I know better than to put any cash or valuables in my bag. I quickly change clothes and wipe the sweat off my forehead with my hoodie. I put on some deodorant then go out to the bar.

I seriously hate the clothes my boss has us wearing. He tried to get us all to wear these revealing dresses but that doesn't work for me. And not trying to brag, but me having to work for you, means a lot. So he decided to "grant" my wishes. At least the clothes he has me wearing is better but it still makes me mad. Why does everyone have to be so horny and look at women's bodies like meat?

My clothes consist of a tight crop top and a flannel shirt wrapped around it so it's showing my belly. That's the only part of me anyone will be seeing if anything. Then I put on my black, leather jeans. I put my hair up in a bun so it doesn't get anywhere. And don't forget the nametag. The only name I allowed on there of course was "Tris".

I take a deep breath and put on the best smile I can. When I go out behind the bar, everyone is always so surprised because it's a girl working behind the bar when they should be working on the pole. Only the guys work behind the bar. But they certainly haven't met me. I won't take shit from any of them and if they want me to work for them, we do it my way.

I'm not going to lie, I get annoyed by guys that whistle and always call me over. Those guys are the ones that like "taking control" women but they won't ever get in my panties. They can go straight over to the strippers who will bend to their will. Apparently, I seem to come off as a slut because they think I'm someone that would easily have sex with them. They could care less about looks. They just want a reliever and I know it.

I try to get through every day keeping my cool and keeping a smile on my face. Even though most of the times I just want to punch these assholes. They need to take it down a notch. As I'm taking orders and serving drinks, I always try to stay nice and calm towards the douches. Even when they give me the nastiest comments. Whether they're being mean or sexual. That's what people don't understand when it comes down to the case of being a waiter or something. They get all kinds of shit yet have to stay sweet like nothing bothers them.

And ohhhhhh the worst part of working at the bar is when a guy insists on drinking until he can barely see or sit on the damn chair and then I'm told to take care of them. What the hell? I'm not their nanny. They can take care of themselves. They are apparently old enough to drink out of their asses.

I go to the next guy at the bar and I hear a gasp escape me. This man is hot. He is handsome. He has a spare upper lip, and a full lower lip. His eyes. They catch me off guard. They are so deep-set that his eyelashes touch the skin under his eyebrows, and they are dark blue, almost black. He has a small patch of lighter blue on his right iris, right next to the corner of his eye. His hair is dark, almost black and he has a bit of stubble on his face. I can see a small scar on his chin. He seems quiet, self-possessed, and intimidating. He is muscular, nothing on his body yields. He has a faint hallow beneath his cheekbone and taut, defined forearms. I can see a tattoo peering out of the back of his t-shirt. What the hell? I've never studied someone as much as him and I've never seen this guy before.

He's not alone. He has a friend next to him chatting his head off. He is a light-skinned black guy with bright, brown eyes. His hair is short and black. He is as tall as the guy next to him but blue-eyes is definitely more muscular.

Score! I get to serve two hot cuties. Hopefully their attitude isn't bad because that would definitely kill all the hope I had for these two. Not in dating of course or getting close. That's a big no for me. But hopefully, they are as nice as they come off and I can finally have a day serving a nice person.

Blue-eyes' voice brings me out of my trance. His voice is deep and it rumbles, yet it's also low and smooth, almost soothing. "You good?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

I can feel the heat in my cheeks. Wow, I've already made a fool of myself. I cough to gather my courage to speak and look down for a second before looking back up at the both of them. "Sorry, my name is Tris. What would you guys like to drink today?" I ask and give a small smile. The darker one smiles at me but blue-eyes almost glares. It's weird. He glares yet his eyes still seem thoughtful. But he's still glaring. And my blush is getting worse by the minute.

"Two glasses of whiskey." The darker skinned guy answers for them both.

"Ok. I'll be right out with your drinks and the menu. If you guys would like anything to eat also?" I ask. Please say yes. I could use the money.

Blue-eyes looks to the darker guy and he nods. "Sure." The darker-skinned one answers once again. God, how much I wasn't to hear blue-eyes' voice again.

I go to the fridge behind me and the two other workers and grab a whiskey. I grab two glasses, set them on a table, and pour the whiskey into it. I put the whiskey back in the fridge and bring back the glasses and two menus. They're small menus. We don't serve much. Just stuff like cheese sticks.

"What exactly is good here?" The dark-skinned one asks. He wants me to recommend something?

I bite my lip and look down, shaking my head a bit. I put a small smile on my face, trying to hold it in. "Nothing." I mouth.

"Foreal?" He asks.

"Yea." I say and nod my head a little, keeping my head down a bit. I can't let the boss, manager or the two other guys hear me talk crap.

"Is there something we can eat that won't kill us?" He asks.

"As long as it doesn't have meat, you're good." I joke but I'm actually serious. He seems to understand me, though. They both seem to look at each other as they go over the menus. "I'll give you guys some time and be back in a bit. Is that ok?" I ask with a smile.

The both nod to me and I smile before leaving. Now it's time for me to fake my smiles. A bunch of dudes that I can already see are going to be assholes.

I go to another guy and his buddy. I don't even have time to take in any of their appearance. They already seem like a bunch of arrogant pricks. "Hello, my name's Tris. What can I get you two to drink today?" I ask and fake a smile.

"How about you." One of them says.

"Sorry, I'm not on the menu." I say, trying to stay kind. Sometimes, it makes me want to cry because I seem to come off as a slut that a good quick fuck.

"Aww, that's a shame. What about later tonight? You gonna work the pole or come home with me?" He asks.

"Sorry, but I don't do the stripper thing and if you want someone to take home, you could wait and ask one of the actual strippers about that." I say.

"But I want you." He pushes.

"Unfortunately I'm not a whore." I say kindly but it apparent I'm pissed. Even to him. He takes the hint and backs off but not without a fight back.

"You sure look like one, wearing tight skinned clothes and showing skin." He says.

I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. I change the topic. "So, have you found out what you want to have to drink?" I ask.

"Just send one of the guys to me. I don't trust a woman making my drinks." He snarls.

I roll my eyes and walk over to Brad, one of the guys I work with and he says he'll take over the two guys for me. I thank him and walk over to brown and blue eyes. "So, have you guys figured out what you want to order? If you want to order?" I say with a small smile. I'm just trying to get that other asshole off my mind.

"Yea, I think Four and I got it." Brown-eyes says.

I gasp. Four? Why is his name a number? I didn't think anybody did that except for me. Has he heard of me? Does he know me?

"Are you okay?" Four asks, tilting his head. Suddenly, his soothing voice calmed me down.

I nod my head and take out my notepad. "Uh-mm go ahead and tell me what you would like." I say.

"The quesadillas…without the meat." Four says.

"Alright, I'll have that right out. My name is Tris if you need anything." I say.

I take their menus and place them back on the pile then give the note to the chef in the back. I go on for a while taking others orders, making drinks, taking insults, and faking my smile to everyone else.

I hear the bell rings in the back and go back to get everyone's orders. I hand Four's and brown-eyes food last because I know they have patience. Even though I hate having to do that since they're good people.

Everybody seems happy at the bar so I lean against a stool near the back but still in front at the bar. I look down and take deep breaths trying to keep it together. I got through a day. It'll be fine. I look up at the clock behind me. It reads 8:50 p.m. Good, people will start getting done with their food and go watch the strippers. Thank God it's Friday. Thanks to the strippers, everyone takes their attention elsewhere and all I have to do is clean up the bar without any distractions then once the strippers are done, everyone has to leave anyways so I can clean while no one's here.

All of a sudden, the lights go dark and the stage lights come on. I grin. Finally! Everybody gets up to leave except for Four and brown-eyes. They stay but I don't have a problem with them. I'll just clean up around them while the other two bartenders leave for the night. As long as I don't have to put up with assholes, I'm fine doing my job.

I take all the baskets for the food, dump everything in them, and then take it to the back for the chef to wash then come out and take the glasses back too. I come back with a small bin I use to dump trash in and a napkin. I wipe everything on the bar off onto the bin then clean off the bar top with Lysol and a rag. All while doing this, I take the tips left for me at the bar. I take out the mop from the back and clean the floor behind the bar.

Once I'm done, I blow my hair out of my face and sit down on the stool. I pull the money out of my pockets and count it. Only $30. Hm, well that's all you get when you work at a bar like this that only serves assholes. I must have let a lot of men down today when I corrected them I was not a whore.

"Hey, Tris." I hear the familiar voice of brown-eyes say. I look up and raise an eyebrow. "Well, doesn't your attitude change when you're not working." I chuckle.

"I just don't talk as much in reality." I correct him but that's all I say. I won't say much more.

"Hey you're like Four here." He says nudging Four. "Always yelling at everybody when he's doing his job but in reality, wants nothing to do with anyone." Brown- eyes says.

I give a small grin then look back down at the cash I collected. "Fuck." I think to myself. I need to go sell something soon. I'm running short. These apartments are $200 a month and I don't eat every day. I don't have the money for it. I try to eat only when I'm hungry so it doesn't affect me much but even then, it affects my health because I'm sure eating once every three days isn't that great.

"What was that?" Four asks.

I said that out loud. "Oh, um sorry. I was just…thinking." I say and bite down on my lip. SHIT.

"Why don't you come sit over here with us?" Brown-eyes asks.

"No. I don't want to interfere. I'm fine, really." I say. I can't start a friendship. Whatever this is, I need to cut it off now.

"Tris, it's fine. It'd be cool to get to know you." He says.

I let out a breath of air. I can't be mean. Especially to them when they've been the brightness of my day so far. I just nod and take a deep breath. "Just watch what you say." I remind myself.

I pull the stool over to them, while keeping a bit of space between us. Brown-eyes decides to start the conversation. "So, sorry I didn't introduce myself but I'm Zeke. And I'm pretty sure you might have picked up his name already." He says with a grin and I nod.

After a bit of silence, he speaks up once again. "You're really not much of a talker are you? It surprises me. Even after that incident at the bar."

"You-you heard all of that?" I ask with wide eyes. Oh please don't tell me-

"Everyone heard you." He says. Yup.

"Did the other bartenders hear?" I ask.

"IIIIIIII think sooo?" He asks/states.

I run my hands through my hair, undoing my bun accidently. I decide to let it go and shake my head a little to let the hair fall and run my hands through it. Four is staring at me now with a different look. Is that good? I'm worried now.

"Sorry, I didn't mean for you guys to hear that. I'm….not supposed to say anything like that." I say.

"Why not? He was being inappropriate." Four speaks up.

I shake my head a little. "It's just….the way it is. No matter what happens, I'm not allowed to resort to violence or talk back." I say. "Fake smile and sweet talk is the only way I can do my job." I joke. He doesn't seem to take it that way, though. "Four, its fine. I'm good at this. Nothing's happened to me and I've learned to put up with people's crap." I say.

"Well you shouldn't have to put up with them. Why can't they put other girls in here and give you a better job?" He asks. "Without stripping." He adds.

I bite my lip. "It's a business deal my boss and I had. This is a sexist place. We're only seen as tools. I won't work in those conditions, though and he wanted me to work for him. So, I got to be behind here, not stripping. It pays ok." I say with a shrug. That sounds believable, right? Plus, I didn't lie. I just didn't tell the whole truth.

I'm saved from answering anymore personal questions when I hear a cheer and I look passed the guys to see that the girls are strutting out and to the poles. The guys are confused by the cheer and turn around to turn right back around again. I giggle. "You sure you don't wanna go speak to those girls? Instead of this one?" I ask.

"I'm not into whores either." Zeke jokes. "Plus, I got my own girl." Aww, that's so sweet. It brings a smile to my face. It seems to go away when I realize he didn't say we. Does that mean Four uses girls? I can feel my face fall. I thought he was different.

Oh, shut the hell up, Tris. You're such a hypocrite. Talking about a perfect man in front of you being totally different than who you thought while you just get worse by the minute the more someone gets to know you. Plus, what would a guy like him want with you? Shit, what would any guy? It seems to anyone you're a whore.

The cheering gets louder and louder the more we sit here. "I don't think we'd be able to talk much. Especially over the sound of them. You guys might want to get out of here anyways. It's not safe here at night." I say.

"Hun, we go through a lot worse every night. We know this place. This is safe compared to us." Zeke says. I scowl. What would they know of living in a place like this? I watch as Four elbows him in the ribs to shut him up.

I'm not going to push them on anything, though. I know what that's like. Not wanting to tell anyone. I mean, shit, I have absolutely no friends and that's because of my decisions to not get close or give any secrets.

Before Four can start a rant on him, I intervene. "Don't worry about it. I won't ask." I say and Four seems to visibly calm down. I look to Zeke and point a finger at him. "But you don't ever call me hun." I say and squint at him. I'm being nice but I'm serious about it.

Zeke puts his hands up in defense. "Geez, feisty." He says. I smile and yawn.

I'm so tired. Maybe I can just clean up after them and come back earlier in the morning to clean up the rest of the club. I'll ask my boss. I don't think he'll have a problem. I usually do this, especially on nights they have strippers out because I don't like staying outside of my apartment at night. "I think I'm going to ask my boss if I can leave and come back tomorrow morning to clean up the rest of the club." I say and stand.

"Don't you think you break your back enough?" Zeke asks, incredulously. I chuckle.

"No. It's a way of survival." I say simply then clean up their area before going to the back and asking my boss about it. Of course, he has no problem since he knows I'm always on time and do my job.

I go to where I change and change back into my grey tank top and sweatpants then pull my grey hoodie over me. I walk past the bar and Zeke calls after me, "Hey, wait!" I turn around to look at him. "Don't we have to pay?" He asks.

"It's on the house. Thanks for being my favorite customers!" I say with a smile then walk out of the club.

It's the least I could do for them. Especially since they probably won't be coming back since it's their first time here and the first time I've seen them. Plus, this will be the last time I talk to them. They may have been nice guys but again, I don't like getting close to people. I run home since it's already night and I want to make sure Four or Zeke don't find me. I get to my apartment, lock the door, and pass out on the bed, not bothering to change clothes.

(Tobias POV)

Zeke was able to somehow get me to leave the Dauntless compound and go out just the two of us. He said that since we were best friends we should be hanging out more and he's apparently heard of this club in another crappy neighborhood that we should try out.

I groan when I hear were going to a club. There's going to be whores and strippers. Of course, that wouldn't seem like a problem to most guys but girls find me appealing somehow and I can't get rid of them. However, I'd be lying if I said that's the only reason. Whores stick together and I don't want to see any I know. I use to take my frustration out on them and I'm ashamed of myself. I've always been a screw up and I just use girls like they're toys. Well, I guess that's why I belong in Dauntless. I've been a screw up since I was born and Dauntless is full of damaged. We take in the runaways, the addicts, the forgotten, basically, the streets. But we only take in the best. Our gang is huge and known to everyone. Everyone thinks we're just violent assholes.

I won't lie, many of us are but that's not what the gang is about. We're just like a big ass family since we don't have real ones of our own. Our gang runs together. We all work even though it's dirty work; robbing, selling drugs, beer runs, shootings, underground fights, gambling, rap battles, you name it. But we'll put money down on everything. We use the money to keep our compound running, giving jobs, apartments, etc. There are better jobs than what I mentioned. We can also work in the compound like leaders, tattoo artists, surveillance, etc. I'm an initiate trainer. Every year, Dauntless brings in new recruits and I teach them how to fight. If they pass initiation, they're in. If they don't, they go back to the streets and if there's a word out of them, we kill them. We're just a family that depends on each other. Nobody understands that.

Zeke meets me in the control room when I'm done with my shift and we take off to the club. We put our black hoodies on and pull the hoods over our head. We keep our heads hidden. If somebody sees a Dauntless, people get hurt. That's why it's smart to keep your mouth shut.

We arrive at the club at 7:00 and take a seat. I watch closely, taking in the whole club. It seems to be run by a man and all I see is men. No strippers, luckily. The weirdest thing though, is that there's only one girl here out of the whole club and she's working behind the bar with two other bartenders.

She entrances me. I can't get my eyes off her but I'm able to understand what Zeke is saying at the same time. "Stop staring." He says. It catches my attention and I look towards him to see him with a smirk on his face.

I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to him as he keeps talking. Although I'm responding, I can't stop myself from looking back at the girl behind the bar. She walks around like she owns the place even though she's a bartender and it's kind of hot.

She has blonde hair that's pulled into a bun and it shows off that long, smooth neck. She's also got creamy, pale skin. She's showing a bit too much of it too. She has a tight crop top on and a flannel shirt wrapped around it so her belly is showing. She also has leather black jeans on. Damn.

Once I decide it's enough, I turn my attention back to Zeke and we continue on with our conversation. "So I was thinking of getting a ring for Shauna…." Zeke says.

I smirk. "Oh my God, don't become a man. It would be an embarrassment for you to be part of that category with me." I joke with him.

"Asshole." He says.

"Nah, I'm just joking. I'm proud of you, man." I say with a grin and pat him on the back.

"Yea. I was just wondering when the right time to do it was…." Zeke trails off.

I hear a gasp and turn my attention to see the female bartender in front of us. She looks at me for about a minute. I raise an eyebrow. "You good?" I ask.

She seems to fumble then coughs a bit as I see red rise in her cheeks. I want to smirk that I gave her that reaction just by sitting here. "Sorry, my name is Tris. What would you guys like to drink today?" She says with a smile. Her voice is deep for a girl but not really deep and soothing nonetheless. I look into her eyes. They are the most interesting color ever. They're blue and grey and it's unique. They're beautiful.

"Two glasses of whiskey." Zeke answers for us.

"Ok. I'll be right out with your drinks and the menu. If you guys would like anything to eat also?" She asks. I leave that up to Zeke.

I'll just leave the talking up to Zeke. It seems like she is just going to be like every other girl, seeing a pretty guy and wants to have in his pants. Yea, that shit doesn't work for me anymore. "Sure." Zeke answers.

She seems to grow redder by the minute every time she looks at me. As she walks away, Zeke elbows me. "Dude. Stop glaring at her." He says.

"I'm not glaring." I say in defense.

"Yea, you are. That's why she's getting red and acting scared." He says.

I roll my eyes and watch as she moves around the bar, grabbing the whiskey and two glasses, pouring it in then getting two small menus. It seems like she knows where everything is. Like she's been working here since a child. Does she even notice the looks she's being given? Or does she just learn to ignore them? I see her grab two menus and watch as she brings over the menus and drinks.

"What exactly is good here?" Zeke asks as he eyes the menu.

She smiles a little and looks down as if to hide her face. "Nothing." I see her mouth.

"Foreal?" Zeke asks.

"Yea." She replies, still looking down. C'mon look up. I love seeing those eyes.

"Is there something we can eat that won't kill us?" He jokes.

"As long as it doesn't have meat, you're good." She jokes back. Zeke and I look over the menu for a bit and sometimes we look at each other as if to wonder why they serve some of this shit. "I'll give you guys some time and be back in a bit. Is that ok?" She asks.

We look at her and nod. She gives us a kind smile before moving on to take other's orders.

Once she's out of our area, Zeke starts talking. "Honestly, I don't want shit from here but for some reason, she seems like a…damaged person. She probably needs the money and seems like the only nice one here." He says quietly.

"Yea." I say as I nod my head and look up at her. "Just get something simple and easy. Without meat." I add.

As he skims through the menu, I look around and take in the bar. Is there seriously not one other girl here? There's five poles for strippers behind us. She doesn't do that? Right? I mean, where are all the other women that work here?

I'm broken out of my thoughts and snap my head up when I hear something come out of Tris' mouth that surprised the whole bar. They all stopped to listen to her but kept a quiet conversation going.

"Unfortunately I'm not a whore." She says kindly but it's apparent she's pissed. Even to him. He takes the hint and backs off but not without a fight back. Hell, he's pissing me off. What the hell did he say to make her respond that way?

"You sure look like one, wearing tight skinned clothes and showing skin." He says. How dare he talk to her like that. Just because she's a woman and the only one at this club no less.

She takes a deep breath and tries to restart the whole conversation. "So, have you found out what you want to have to drink?" She asks.

"Just send one of the guys to me. I don't trust a woman making my drinks." He snarls. If we were in Dauntless, he'd be getting his ass kicked. And not just by me.

Damn, I guess she might not be what I thought she was. Maybe Zeke was right. Maybe she is damaged. But I could never, ever let her get involved with Dauntless. One stupid move and she could get killed. She's not a whore and she doesn't take being talked down to. I know she wants to snap back but I'm also sure she wants to keep her job. She apparently puts up with a lot of crap.

"So, have you guys figured out what you want to order? If you want to order?" She asks and brings back a small smile.

"Yea, I think Four and I got it." Zeke says. I wonder what he decided on.

I hear her gasp and she seems a bit distant until I get her attention. "Are you ok?" I ask.

She seems to get a bit red and bites her plump lip. "Uh-mm go ahead and tell me what you would like." She says, keeping eye contact with her notepad.

"The quesadillas…without the meat." I say.

"Alright, I'll have that right out. My name is Tris if you need anything." She says then scurries away quickly with our menus. I watch as she goes to the back then returns to take everybody else's orders. What was that about?

I hear bells ring in the back and watch as Tris runs to the back, bringing out orders as many as she can carry at a time. She gives us ours last and I watch as she goes to lean on a stool away from the bar and look up at the time. It reads 8:50 p.m. We need to get going soon but for some reason I don't want to leave. I could care less about when we get back.

When it turns 9:00 p.m., the lights go dark all of a sudden and I look around. Then, lights snap on from behind us and I turn around to see the stage is lit up. Everybody rushes over to the front of the stage and Zeke and I are the only ones left at the bar. Even the other two bartenders packed up their stuff and left. Ah. So I guess there are other girls that work here. Just not as bartenders. Yet, Tris is grinning. Why?

She cleans up around the bar and I can feel my lips turn downward. Why is she the one doing all the work? And why is it just up to her? Maybe it makes her more money and that's a good thing, I'm hoping. I watch as she gets done with the last of it after cleaning around us instead of being an ass and making us leave the bar. Now I'm starting to feel bad. She's breaking her back and it seems we don't give a damn. But I don't. God, what's happening? Why is this woman making me feel things? This is not me. I'm supposed to be cold, emotionless, Four. She finishes mopping the floor then goes to sit at the stool away from the bar. She pulls out her money and starts counting it. I see her bite that damn lip again after she counts it all.

"Hey Tris!" I look to Zeke as he calls out to her. She looks at him and raises her eyebrow. Ha! "Well, doesn't your attitude change when you're not working." He jokes.

"I don't talk as much in reality." She says with a small grin and looks down. I can't believe that. Especially after how well she works.

"Hey you're like Four here." He says nudging me. "Always yelling at everybody when he's doing his job but in reality, wants nothing to do with anyone." Alright Zeke. She gets it.

She gives a small grin again then looks down at her money and her attitude changes. It's like she's in her own world. "Fuck." I hear her mumble. Oh no. Don't let a perfect mouth like that for dirty words.

"What was that?" I ask and raise an eyebrow. It almost sounds like I'm giving a warning. What the hell am I doing? She's not an initiate.

"Oh, um sorry. I was just…thinking." She says and bits her lip again. Uh huh. Don't slip up like that again, beautiful. Wait. WHAT THE FUCK?

"Why don't you come sit over here with us?" Zeke asks. What are you doing, Zeke?

"No. I don't want to interfere. I'm fine, really." She says.

"Tris, it's fine. It'd be cool to get to know you." He says.

She sighs and seems to have a debate in her head before coming over hesitantly. She brings the stool over and sits opposite of us and a bit away to give us space.

"So, sorry I didn't introduce myself but I'm Zeke. And I'm pretty sure you might have picked up his name already." Zeke says and nods towards me. She smiles and nods a bit.

The conversation dies and Zeke brings it back up again. Damn it, Zeke. Let it go. I'm trying to. "You're really not much of a talker are you? It surprises me. Even after that incident at the bar." He says.

"You-you heard all of that?" She asks with wide eyes. Oh baby, we heard it all. And I admired what you had to say.

"Everyone heard you." He says. Yup.

"Did the other bartenders hear?" She asks.

"IIIIIIII think sooo?" He asks/states.

She runs her hands through her hair in a sign of stress but her ponytail holder pops loose and her hair comes down from the bun it was in. She sighs and shakes her hair, letting it all fall straight. I have to keep myself from gaping. She's even more sexy than before. I can't take my eyes of her. I wish she had her hair down this whole time.

"Sorry, I didn't mean for you guys to hear that. I'm….not supposed to say anything like that." She says. Why should she be sorry? There's no need for her to think she did something wrong.

"Why not? He was being inappropriate." I speak up.

"It's just….the way it is. No matter what happens, I'm not allowed to resort to violence or talk back." I say. "Fake smile and sweet talk is the only way I can do my job." She jokes. I don't take it that way, though. "Four, its fine. I'm good at this. Nothing's happened to me and I've learned to put up with people's crap." She says. God, I hate that name coming out of her mouth. Four.

"Well you shouldn't have to put up with them. Why can't they put other girls in here and give you a better job?" I ask. "Without stripping." I add. She's not a girl that needs to be treated like dirt.

"It's a business deal my boss and I had. This is a sexist place. We're only seen as tools. I won't work in those conditions, though and he wanted me to work for him. So, I got to be behind here, not stripping. It pays ok." She says with a shrug. Oh no. I know there's more to it than just that.

I'm about to ask more about it when I hear cheering behind us and we turn around to see the strippers strutting out on stage. I quickly turn back around. Tris doesn't seem to be phased by any of this, however. She giggles when we both look back to her.

"You sure you don't wanna go speak to those girls? Instead of this one?" She asks. Yes, I'm a hundred percent sure.

"I'm not into whores either." Zeke jokes. "Plus, I got my own girl." Ok. Stop being a suck up.

"I don't think we'd be able to talk much. Especially over the sound of them. You guys might want to get out of here anyways. It's not safe here at night." She says. I can tell she's trying to get away. Jesus, Zeke. You're really bad at reading body language.

"Hun, we go through a lot worse every night. We know this place. This is safe compared to us." Zeke says. I elbow him in the side. I swear if I wasn't around him most of the time, people would have figured out we were Dauntless in less than ten seconds.

I'm about to rant on him but Tris cuts me off. "Don't worry about it. I won't ask." She says and I calm down. She seems to know about not invading someone's privacy. She looks to Zeke and points a finger at him. "But you don't ever call me hun." She says and squints at him. She's being nice but serious about it. I have to stifle my laugh with a cough.

Zeke raises his hands in the air in defense. "Geez, feisty." He says. Yea, no doubt about it.

I watch as she yawns and the dark circles under her eyes are making me tires myself. "I think I'm going to ask my boss if I can leave and come back tomorrow morning to clean up the rest of the club." She says. No, don't leave yet.

"Don't you break your back enough?" Zeke asks, incredulously. Yea, you think?

She stretches and gives a small smile. "No, it's a way of survival." She says simply. Why is this a way of survival for her? Is there no other way? And why does she have to work so much just to breathe? No offence, but this is a shitty club but I won't tell that to her or Zeke. She grabs our dishes and takes them to the back then cleans up our spot.

She walks to the back behind the bar and Zeke and I look at each other. I decide not to go over it in public. "You pay for food, I pay for drinks?" I ask him. He nods and we both pull out our money for when she comes back.

I have to stop and stare when she reappears from the back. She is really different from how she comes off. She's wearing grey sweatpants and a grey hoodie over her with the hood pulled over her head. She keeps walking, however and doesn't come to pick up our money.

"Hey, wait!" Zeke calls out and she stops and turns around. "Don't we have to pay?" He asks.

"It's on the house. Thanks for being my favorite customers!" She says with a small smile and speed walks out of here. Not even a tip? She deserves something!

Zeke and I decide to leave and with hopes she'd be outside where I can catch her, my mood goes down. I look around and she's nowhere to be seen. "She's definitely something different." Zeke says under his breath. Yea, she sure is.

"Yea." Is all I say. I don't even know if I'll see her again and we didn't even say one goodbye. Maybe it's not goodbye.

Zeke and I pull our hoods over our heads and decide to jog back to the compound. I check the time on my watch as we run. It reads 9:56 p.m. Shit, they may be mad when we get there. Oh well. Not like anyone has the balls to tell me what to do.

When we reach the compound, we take off our hoodies and we run up the stairs to our apartments. Both of our apartments are in the same hallway. "See ya tomorrow." Zeke says and goes into his apartment. When I turn to go mine, I see Amar standing at the front of my door. Amar is the man that trained me during my initiation and I'm lucky to have been one of his initiates.

"It's your first year here and you're already going around being stupid." He says.

I roll my eyes. "Ok. I already know what the lecture is about that you're about to give me but just know, that is going to take up time. So please, get on with it to the important stuff. I'm tired." I say.

"Well, you should've thought about that hmm?" He asks with a smirk. "There won't be any sleeping for a while. You need to get down to that training room and start getting things cleaned and set up. This is going to be your first year training initiates. They'll be coming soon. Probably in the next couple of days. So get your lazy ass down there and start doing your job." He says.

I sigh and go down the stairs to the training room. I spend my night cleaning up everything, setting up all the targets, setting up the mats, putting the guns together, sharpening the knives, putting up the punching bags, etc. There was so much shit to do. By the time I got done, it was 2:00 a.m. I barely have enough time to sleep before I need to go into the training room. Damn Zeke. I need to think of our plans before diving straight in.

I drag myself up the stairs and into my apartment. I lock the door and take a shower before jumping on my bed and falling asleep as soon as my head hit the people. Even in my dreams those beautiful, blue and grey eyes are haunting me.