Fast and Furiously Divergent

Chapter 1

Tobias P.O.V.

I was at the starting line, all of the four cars alined by the front bumper. All alined on a four lane street, marked by yellow paint, surrounded by thousands of street racers and their girls. Their cars alined around the track, blocking off other vehicles.

A bead of sweat rolled down my forehead, waiting for the flagger to drop the crop top she held in her right hand, she wore a tank top underneath. The sun was a few hours from setting, perfect for a summer street rally. And it was the perfect time to test the upgrades to my 2005 Mazda RX-7, VeilSide. The slick paint job Zeke and I had done for it was showing off under the strong light of the sun, the sunset orange pearl colour with the black racing stripe down the length of the car made it stand out.

Waiting for Zeke to give the heads up for clearance of the cops, I pressed down on my brakes and slammed my foot against the accelerator, making my engine rev louder than the others. A loud cheer rang through the crowd and the voluptuous girl that stood in-between the four cars sent a wink my way, only getting a smirk in return from me.

"Attention all street racers, Toronto lane 202 is all clear. I repeat, Toronto lane 202 is all good" Zeke says through the 2-way radio we use to get word around. The flagger and the other racers look at me expectantly and I nod, signalling for the crop top to hit the ground so I can release the brakes.

"Ready?" The girl shouts. She then looks at each of us to give her the go, me being the last. I grip the steering wheel and slowly start to ease the weight of my foot off the brake and she finally looks at me. Placing my hand on the gear stick, I nod my head and she nods back in acknowledgment. "Ready...Set...RACE!" And with that, the article of clothing hits the tar road and I slam the gear stick into gear one and put my foot on accelerator, letting go of the brakes.

The tyres screech and a cloud of smoke is left at the starting line the moment my car leaves the spot. I look in my rear view mirror and see two cars trailing behind, just meeting my back bumper. I look to my side and I'm met with a Nissan Silvia S15. I would say it was a nice car, but to nice for my VeilSide. I change gears as often as possible, trying to get a boost.

"Not this time, Four" The dark-skinned driver grits out. I smirk.

"We'll see about that" I retort. And with that I shift the gear stick to gear six and press down on the accelerator, boosting me enough to pass the Nissan.

Looking back again and I see the other cars catching up. I furrow my eyebrows when I make the sharp turn and the wheels jolt. The new tyres were pretty big and it took a lot of adjustments to fit such huge wheels onto the chassis.

Seeing the finish line up ahead, I decide now is the time to use the newly installed Nos tank that was built into the back seat. I flick the little blue switch on the steering wheel and immediately my body is pressured back into the comfort of my seat, with the sheer force of the speed that the Nos brings.

Within a few seconds I'm passed the finish line and I swerve the steering wheel so I drift into a parking spot. The crowd comes and surrounds my car, cheering so loud it's almost defending. But this being my second year in the Toronto Racing District, I'm used to it.

As I step out of the car, I'm crowed by claps on the back and congratulations from former and current racers. People from all over Toronto come and race here. It's free of charge and the rules are basic and simple. And another thing that I loved about the TRD (Toronto Racing District) was that I was their best racer ever since I joined a year ago.

Zeke emerges from the crowd and as soon as he sees me he pounds his fists int he air and has a smug look etched onto his face. He comes over to me and we share a pound hug and still, he has the biggest smile on his face.

"Another win for the lot, huh?" He asks patting my back.

"Always, man" I say.

"That's $2000 for more upgrades, anything wrong with the wheels?" He inquires. I honestly think he is the best mechanic around here. He always knows where the slightest touch is needed and where the bolt needs to be loosened exactly.

"Yeah, I reckon the lower end needs a torque to get the big wheels turning sharper. But other than that, nice job man. We did it." I say.

I see Nate, the owner of the Nissan Silvia approaching us with the money. I take it from him and give him a thanks a long with a good job. I'm not one to gloat. I'm just like every other racer, I use the money I get from racing for upgrades for my cars until they're top notch. Nate bids his farewell and disappears into the crowd.

Friday marks the end for street racing each week and we hold a bonfire on the beach. It would make sense to race on the weekends but the streets of Toronto are most busiest during said time, and the cops are always out everywhere searching for crews like us and druggos, on those days the most.

Currently, Zeke and I are leaning against his black 1965 Ford Mustang, a masterpiece that Zeke and I spent two years fixing. With a beer in hand, I take small sips from time to time, still expecting to drive home so I can't drink too much. Zeke leans against the hood with Shauna, his girlfriend and one of my friends, leaning beside him.

The look in Zeke's eyes every time he looks at Shauna tells me that he really loves her, and she loves him. I'm happy for them and I only wish that I'll meet someone that will bring me love and happiness one day. Someone who doesn't want to just get in my pants, like most the girls in the district. The girls here barely wear anything, always some skimpy top and the shortest shorts possibly know to man-kind.

A lot of those girls flaunt their skin and flirt with me, but I have no interest for people who have selfish intentions. Most girls want me to go out with them because I'm the top racer, or for my 'good looks' but if I lose a race I doubt they'd stick around for the long run and for that I keep to myself, until I find someone that wants me for the same reasons I would want them, for love. Shauna would be one of the only girls that I get a long with, besides Uriah and Will's girls. Marlene and Christina, both great people who love their boyfriends also known as my other best mates.

That's why most of the time I spend my free time in the workshop, fixing my cars. Or just busying my self in a new project. Anything to keep my mind off my dad, school and the threats I receive saying if I don't back down from my racing 'crown', I'll regret it. Of course I ignore them but sometimes it worries me that the people that I care for could get caught up in my problems.

That's why I've never told anyone my real name. Not even Zeke. The closet person I have to a real family. If anyone found out that I was the presidents son, I would be kicked out of the TRD and my chances at getting to The Divergent Race Circut would go down the drain. And keeping my name a secret is the only way that I can get away with defying my father.

After my mother died giving birth to my supposedly baby brother, who died of infancy, my fathers stress levels grew and he became into a monster I never thought was possible. The person I called my dad, the person I looked up to as a little boy, quickly changed into the monster I despised after my mothers death and the stress was to much for him to handle so he would take it out on me.

Strict curfews, no socialising or speaking to other children was my childhood. A childhood full of fear whenever I even thought of my father, scared if I made the tinniest mistake I would get belted for it. But I don't call him father anymore, to me, he's just Marcus now. Marcus Eaton, the President of the United States. And the scars he left for me to remember are now covered by coloured ink that swirl around from my front waist all around my right side and covers all the scars that have been scattered around my back, and the flames come to a to a stop after curling around my left bicep. The tattoo is of a fire dragon, to me it represents the five most important traits. Bravery, selflessness, honesty, intelligence and kindness. And if you look close enough, there are symbols that represent each trait along the length of the dragons belly. And on the left side if my chest it has a quote; 'Fear doesn't shut you down, it wakes you up'; written in script.

That was the way I came into the world of street racing. Sure, the consequences are severe, but it's the only way I can defy Marcus without him finding out. Street racing is going against the law, and Marcus just happens to be the one who makes the laws. Hence, why street racing is the only release I get from my life.

It's around ten at night now, and it's been a little over after I had my last drink. All of a sudden Zeke stands up abruptly and put a hand to his ear so the speaker placed in his ear is audible for him.

"Got it" he speaks into the microphone. He looks up at me and nods, knowing I know what he means. We stand up on the tables holding some food and begin to shout.

"COPS! GO GO GO! COPS!" We both shout. After we give the warning we split up, him going to his Mustang and me going to my VeilSide.

I hop in and rev the engine, pulling out of the parking lot and racing to my garage. Where I keep all off my four cars. Hence, why people call me Four. Because of my Four cars, the best street racers around Toronto. I open the garage door and park my VeilSide beside my Nissan Skyline and head out to the car that Marcus thinks I use. A Lamborghini Aventador. Also orange.

I take the long way home because I won't to spend as much time as I can away from Marcus. You would probably think that I live in the White House but I refused, and Marcus had a two month conference in Toronto so we decided to move here for the time being. Living in the richer part of town, and since people don't know who exactly owns the orange Aventador, no one suspects me.

Reaching home, I realise Marcus's Rolls Royce isn't in the garage so I guess he's out for the night. Better for me, I guess. I enter the dwelling I call home, but I've never felt at home. Heck, Zeke's house is more of a home to me than my own. But nobody knows where I live, at least I hope not. I see a note stuck to the mirror wall, it reads:

Tobias,

I'm headed for D.C. and I'd like for you to know that I'm enrolling you at Toronto High for your last year as a Junior and for your Senior year. I will send John down every month and he will refill your needs, such as groceries and laundry every month. I won't be able to keep in touch.

Marcus.

Reading it brings a smile to my face. No Marcus for two years. That means no more beatings, because by the time I return to D.C., that is if I return, I'm no longer in the custody of Marcus and I receive my own rights. And John coming to check up on me isn't a problem anyway, he's our butler. Only he knows what type of person Marcus is, and he respects my wishes in keeping that a secret.

I scrunch the note up and chuck it in the bin and trudge up stair to my bedroom. I shower and throw on some boxers. Not even bothering to go under the covers because of the immense heat. I lay flat on my stomach on the bed and slowly fall asleep. But just I lose my wake, I hear a sound of a moving truck next door.

That's odd, the people that are moving next door must have some serious cash to be living in this part of town. No one has lived next door for the whole of the two years I've lived here. I guess I'll find out who they are tomorrow.

Hey guys! This is the very beginning of what I hope is going to be a good story:)!

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~DivergentFreak