Author's Note: And, here's chapter three. A little bit later than I thought I could get it out but it was a toss up between which stories I work on this week. I got AVT to do, as well as Death. Hopefully I can get more of this done too. Woot.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Spot Conlon, Jack Kelly or any other character from the 1992 Disney musical, Newsies.

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Empty Apologies

You keep saying that you're sorry, Jacky-Boy, but that don't mean nothing to me.

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Jack Kelly
1134 Cerrillos Rd
Santa Fe, New Mexico
(Territory of the U.S.)

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March 12, 1900

Jack,

I guess I'll start this letter with a question. What the fuck is wrong with you? You make me wait almost three damn months for a reply to my first post because you were too much of a chicken shit to read it?

And then you have the nerve to thank me?

When I got that first letter from you, right after you took off on us all, I was torn between wanting to follow you because I wanted to be with you and because I wanted to soak you. But I didn't. I couldn't. I've got responsibilities and I know better than to ditch them.

So you're writing back and forth with the Mouth, good old Davey? I've gotta remember to punch him for that. And Race is fine. He can handle himself alright.

Like you give a shit, anyway.

And how do you get off trying to tell me to forget you, Jacky Boy? You do not tell me what to do. You miss me? If you missed me, you would never have left.

You're a hypocrite. And I know what the word means – one of my boys got a dictionary or some shit and he helped me out. I don't know if you know what it means but just remember the word. Hypocrite.

You want me to forget you… even if I live a million years and pass enough damn centuries, I couldn't. But I can (and will) hate you. As much as I love you, I want to hate you more.

So there.

But, maybe, you can tell the fucking truth for once in your life. Because I don't think you want me to forget you. You don't want me to hate you.

I knew it from that kiss – you wanted me as much as I wanted you. And your lying to yourself.

Ass.

- Spot