A/N: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE NEWSIES CHARACTERS OR SONGS IN THIS STORY. NOTHING IS MINE EXCEPT THE THINGS YOU DO NOT RECOGNIZE FROM NEWSIES and if I get a character wrong, please tell me! I may have poems I've written but other than that . . . I'll tell you if I wrote them I guess . . . enjoy! Oh yeah and I can't talk Newsies slang so I may do it here and there but otherwise, I can't. Sorry. In case you haven't realized, I'm horrible at these things :-)

The train came to a sudden halt and I looked out the window to see we had arrived in Manhattan, New York. As I got off the train, a whole bunch of people stared at me. Probably wondering what a girl like me was doing here. I gripped my dress as I walked, averting my eyes. Leaving the station, I looked down the road, sighing. He was late . . . or he had forgotten. Either way, I would have to walk. That's what he told me to do. If he wasn't there, walk. My things had been sent early so I made my way down the street. I had grown up in Manhattan so I knew my way around quite well. So caught up in my thoughts, I walked into someone. "Gah!"

"Christ, miss, I didn't, I mean," the all too familiar newsie fumbled.

"It's okay," I laughed slightly. I bent down, picking up his papers and tapped his hat playfully. "Have fun." He gave a confused look and I smiled, shaking my head. "See ya 'round Race." Leaving him completely befuddled, I continued my walk to my grandfather's house. "Pappy!" I yelled, running to my ancient grandfather.

"Rayne!," he laughed, "It's marvelous to have you here."

"Pappy, honestly," I smiled, "Everyone calls me Missy-."

"And have I ever been an everybody?"

"Aw, Pap's, I missed ya!"

"And Manhattan missed you also, my sweet." I laughed and gave him another huge hug. "How about we go for a walk-a-bout?"

"Sounds great," I grinned, linking arms with him. He grabbed his hat and we set out. "What're we doing here?"

"I thought you'd want to say hello to your old friends," Pappy shrugged, "You couldn't exactly say goodbye when your parents dragged you off for your father's job-."

"They understood," I muttered quietly.

"Hey, hey, there will be no gloominess from you my dear," he said, tapping my nose, "You are to Ray-venous."

"And you'se weird," I laughed.

"Go on my dear, we have plenty of time to catch up."

"Are ya sure?" I asked biting my lip.

"Ray, you have been gone been for a good six years. Last time they saw you, you were ten and had extremely bushy hair-."

"Hey!"

"It was beautiful but I love it now too," he smiled, "Go." He left and I stood, staring at the place my friends and I had always hung out. Tibby's. Taking a deep breath, I pulled open the door to an empty diner. Well all except for the owner, Max. He had his back to the door, washing some glasses, and I smiled at all the memories of this place. As I sat at the counter, he turned around and gave me a slightly confused look.

"Can I help ya, ma'am?"

"Can I get a lemonade with two limes, and a lemon," I said. He got to work but paused.

"I haven't heard that since," his head snapped up, "Missy is that you?"

I grinned, "How ya doin' Max?"

"Missy! You've changed! Last time I saw ya, ya were this tall," he says, gesturing to the height of his waist.

"It's been six years Maxy," I laughed.

"Oh, the boys'll be happy you'se back." As if on cue, the door opened and a bunch of boys came in, extremely noisy boys. "So what're ya doing back here?"

"I talked my father into letting me come back."

"How are they? Lillian any better?" he asked softer. I shook my head.

"She died," I said barely audible, staring at cup in front of me.

"Oh, Missy, I'm sorry," he said gently.

"It's alright, it's just distanced my father and my relationship. We don't talk as much." He gave me a sympathetic look and I smiled in thanks.

"Max, we gonna get anything or ya gonna be mushy all day?" a voice yelled from behind me.

"Ya better shut your mouth or ya wont get no food!" Max yelled back, making me laugh, "Better get to work. Say hi to Paul for me."

"I will and thanks for the drink. I couldn't find it anywhere."

"My specialty, just for you."

"Thanks Max." He nodded, smiling and left him to attend to all the newsies. I finished off my drink and turned around to be met by a kid with glasses. He gave me a long look.

"Do I know ya?" he finally said.

"Ya should," I laughed. He raised an eyebrow and I shook my head. "Never mind."

"Guys! Guys! She's back," I heard Race yell as I made my way to the door.

"Who Race?" an all too familiar voice asked.

"Missy," Race said as I opened the door.

"Bye Max," I called before closing it. He gave a final wave and I went out onto the street. Looking up the street, I headed towards what, during my childhood, became my home. You see, my father and I, we never really got along. However, after my mother's death, it got exceedingly worse. I snapped out of my daze, coming closer to the building. As I opened the door, I heard a crash.

"Escuse me ma'am, are ya lost?" the boarding house 'supervisor', AKA Kloppman, asked.

"Nope," I laughed, looking at pictures that were hung, "There was a strike?"

"Sure was," he beamed, "Those boys sure are something." I felt a pang in the pit of my stomach, maybe it was guilt, but I quickly pushed the thought out of my head. "It was a little over a month ago."

"They sure haven't changed much," I muttered, "Is that-."

"Crutchy," he said.

"What happened to him?"

"Ma'am,-."

"Right, right, none of my business, got it, got it," I smiled, "You haven't changed much either."

"Scuse me?"

"Never mind," I smiled, "See ya 'round Kloppsy." I left for Pappy's house again but saw another mark of my childhood. I couldn't resist; so I quietly opened the door and snuck into the theater where a practice of some sort was going on, but they saw me.

"Young lady, you'll have to leave."

"I just came by to see Medda and tell her that she's amazing," I said innocently.

"Miss, you'll have to wait for a show."

"Alright, just promise to sing my song," I smiled. The red headed lady folded her arms.

"I only sing songs by two people. Considering the fact you're not a man-."

"Ah but ya sang my song once before, ya dedicated it to me. C'mon Medda, ya hafta remember me." She furrowed her eyebrows. "Scept last time ya saw me I was a puny, bushy haired back talking, don't take shit from-."

"Missy?" she screeched, a smile appearing.

"Well it took ya long enough," I laughed, hugging her.

"Oh Missy, you've grown so, you look so. I can't believe it's really you!" she said tearing up, "I-we missed you. Oh Missy!"

"I missed ya all too," I smiled, hugging her tighter.

"Do the boys know you're here?" she asked, pulling back, "Does Spot?" I shook my head. "You can't not tell them."

"I'm being sneaky and it looks like I'm not doing a good job. Race found out, Max knows, and the rest will figure it out. They're smart."

"What about Spot?" she asked, looking me directly in the eyes.

"Haven't seen him," I shrugged. She gave me a look and I sighed. "Medda, can we not talk about it."

"Honey, he's probably the one you should've told before you told anyone else."

"Medda, just, please, stop." Remember when I said everyone understood. You know about the moving? Well, Spot was the hardest to leave partially because of how close we were but also because of how amazingly/annoyingly stubborn he was. He was my best friend and understood every part of my soul. Even the parts I didn't want him to . . .

"You're right," she smiled, "It's your first night back, we should do something. I'm having a show for the newsies."

"Since when?"

"The strike. Oh you must've heard about it." I shook my head, letting out a long sigh.

"He cut off all my connections. I'm not surprised he's kept things from me." She gave me a confused look. "My father."

"Oh honey, is it still bad?" she asked, sitting down. Truth be told, she was the only one who I told, besides Spot, about my father and our, ahem, 'issues' if you will.

"Ha, no, it's worse."

"And you being the girl-."

"Woman."

"Young lady."

"Fine," I sighed.

"You being the young lady that you are, who, and I quote, 'Doesn't take shit from anyone' constantly arguing with him."

"Yeah," I muttered, "So what was this strike?"

"Well," she smiled, "Pulitzer decided to cheat out our Newsies, so they striked. It was quite well organized. Kelly met this real smart kid, David and his cute little brother Les. Also this girl, Sarah. She wasn't anything special, about two weeks after the strike she ran off with some boy who's father does something to do with the mayor. Jack was almost as bad as Spot, but then he met Mary. This adorable girl, she is so sweet but awfully shy. Oh but they look so good together, extraordinarily happy."

"What do ya mean 'like Spot'? Like Spot when?" I asked quickly.

"Missy, he was broken when you left. He hardened when you left."

"Like the pharaoh from Moses?"