A/N: Thank you so much to all who are reviewing! It's really very encouraging. And a special thanks to newsie dork from D.U.M.B.O, thanks a bunch for the constructive criticism, I eat that stuff up! Please keep reviewing and I'll love you all forever!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Newsies.

The next morning I arrived at Medda's right on time. I pushed open the doors to the theater and sighed happily, it was so beautiful. Some work men were taking down Medda's set from The Winter Tale, and she was directing them from the center aisle.

"Yes, just take it all down! Store it in the back!" She turned when she heard the door thud closed and smiled. "Come on in Kid! We're just taking some stuff down." She turned to her crew and put her arm around my shoulders. "Everyone this is George Smalls, our new stage manager." There was a round of hello's from the crew, then she turned to a boy a few feet away "Race, come here for a minute."

A boy around my age jumped down from the stage and smiled, sticking out his hand. "Hey there George! I'm Racetrack."

"Race is going to help you get better acquainted with backstage." Medda said as we shook hands. "Me and my crew won't be here long; I need to go costume shopping so we'll be gone in an hour. But take as long as you like looking around and figuring stuff out with Race, I'll leave the key on the stage to lock up the place when your done."

I smiled as best I could; I didn't want to be alone in a theater with some kid I didn't know. But I wasn't about to say that. We said goodbye to Medda then started towards the back.

"So George, your the girl that's been stealing from Queens and the Bronx, huh?" Race said as he showed me the way to the props loft. "You should hear the things they say about you! It's bad! Why you stealing anyway? Can't you find a job?"

I didn't answer but instead started to look around. I heard him as he walked up behind me and turned me around.

"Hey, I'm not judging you George. I'm just making conversation. Sorry if I get too personal, I'm just a curious fellow." He grinned then grew serious. "I understand though, before I became a Newsie I stole off the streets. It's hard to find a job sometimes."

"What is it that you want, Race?" I asked, a little embarrassed that we were talking about this.

He looked hurt. "I don't want anything! I'm just trying to be friendly."

I was skeptical. "But why?"

He gave me a goofy grin. "Geez your funny, Smalls!" he said punching my arm. "I wanna be friends! I mean I'm gonna be working backstage too so we might as well!"

He looked around the props for a moment then found something that caught his eye. "Alright!"

He turned around and showed me a fantastic beard which he had put on, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Man, I wish I could grow one of these."

I smiled. "You look good; I've always preferred men with a beard anyway."

Race grinned, taking a pose. "Then I'll keep it!"

We spent at least an hour in the props loft, looking around for the best loot. We found viking horns, a colonial white wig, a few African masks, and some fantastic Roman swords which, of course, we dueled with. I was surprised at how easily I was getting along with Race. I had never really had any friends before, besides my sister, and it was kind of nice just to goof off for a while. Race showed me around the rest of the theater which consisted of the dressing rooms, the green room, crossover, fly system, catwalk, dimmer room, storage and shop area, and the location of the call board. It was a lot to take in, but race assured me it wasn't as bad as it seemed. He had worked back stage a bunch of times, and Medda had even offered him the job of stage manager, but he had declined.

"I love being a Newsie! Plus there is way too much work involved." he told me as we sat out in the house. "I mean I love helping back stage, but you have to be here all the time and I just don't have the attention span."

"I completely disagree with you. I'd spend every moment in the theater if I could."

"Oh yeah? And whys that, Doll?" he asked lighting a cigarette.

"I want to be an actress."

"Yeah?" Race answered in an excited tone. "You any good?"

I shrugged, I could never critique myself.

"Well, you sure are lucky to be working with Medda. She's fantastic!" He got up and slapped his pockets, looking around. "What time is it?" He ran backstage then came back a moment later saying it was 2:30pm.

"Just in time!" He said to me, grabbing my hand. "Come on! Lets go to the races! Your passion may be acting, but mine is gambling!"

"Wait? The horse races?"

"Yeah! You have to come! It's gonna be great." He started dragging me towards the prop loft.

"Wait, what are we doing?" I asked, confused.

He rolled his eyes. "You think I'm going to Sheepshead dressed like this? Suure!" He started rummaging through a rack of dresses.

"Won't Medda be upset that we're taking her stuff?" I asked, afraid of loosing my job.

"No! Of course not! She loves me! In fact she was the one who suggested it. But I never had the guts to do it before now." He turned around and threw me a black and white dress. "That should fit you! Now wheres a hat..."

"Why haven't you dressed up and gone to the races before?"

By this time he was tearing open every hat box he could find, throwing the inferior ones aside. "Because Doll, I can get into the lower class section no problem! But the upper class boxes are supposed to be real nice. And to get in you gotta look smart and act smart. That's where you come in. Ah ha!" He found a hat he liked then gave it to me. "Go change. I wanna see how well you can act, and this is your test!"

I couldn't believe this. I was in front of Sheepshead races in a ridiculous black and white gown with long sleeved gloves and a huge hat that covered half my face. The sad thing was that this really was the fashion; I never understood why women wanted to wear these things. Ever since I was a kid I hated wearing dresses, they were so hot and constricting. I envied Racetrack right now; he was wearing a fabulous suit with a black top hat and a mustache. The mustache was my idea; he looked at least two years older.

As we approached the entrance of the upper class boxes I started to feel queasy. I knew my role pretty well; my name was Abigail Spencer and Race was to be my brother Charles. We had come from Georgia to visit our uncle Oliver who lived in the Village, and would be here the rest of the summer. We walked through the entrance without a single odd glance and quickly found some seats.

"Nice, Doll!" He whispered. "We got in no problem! Ok, I'm gonna go bet on some horses. Want me to put anything down for you?" I gave him fifty cents and told him to put me down for the prettiest one. He rolled his eyes, smiling, then left.

I fanned myself with my hand as I held my parasol, wondering when the races would start.

"Excuse me Miss, but I don't think we've met!" said a voice from behind me. I turned and saw a handsome gentlemen in gray smiling at me. He had blonde hair, brown eyes, and was very tall. I smiled, remembering my part.

"Why hello there! No I don't believe I've had the pleasure!" I said adopting a southern accent. "I'm Abigail Spencer, it's very nice to make your acquaintance."

I watched as this guy fell under my spell; it really was too easy. The southern accent always got them. He took my hand and kissed it, then took a seat next to me. His name was Lucas Austen and apparently he was a stockbroker. We chatted for a few minutes, then Race showed up. He froze for a moment, and totally forgot his accent but Lucas didn't seem to notice.

"Do you come to the races often?" he asked, his brown eyes gazing into mine. I looked away, then back at him, flirting.

"We come but rarely."

"I am surprised!" Lucas answered. "Singular."

Race laughed. "My sister is terribly fond of animals. She hates how they hit the horses with the crop, even though I have insisted to her that it doesn't hurt them."

"I'm afraid that I can't believe him, Mr. Austen." I said turning to face him. "I refuse to believe that hitting a horse in such a treacherous manner doesn't harm them."

"But dear Miss Spencer, they are but large beasts! It feels like nothing more then a pat, I assure you!" Lucas insisted smiling.

"I'm quite adamant when it comes to the subject I am afraid." I answered him. "But Charles here can be very cogent when he wants to be, and finally I agreed to come just this once."

"Well I do hope you plan on coming again; I am having such a pleasant time talking to you about the treatment of horses." he smiled as I giggled at his stupid joke.

"So am I, Mr. Austen."

Race smirked at me and gave me a look as if to say 'you appalling flirt!' which I grinned at, I was starting to have a bit of fun.

"So my dear, how did you come to this pert opinion?" he asked, sipping some champagne he ordered for us.

"Well, it all started when I was seven years old and my grandfather bought me a little Shetland pony for my birthday present. She was a darling thing, but terribly insubordinate! And my grandfather insisted that I should strike her if I was to ride her at all!"

"She came home crying that day," Race said patting my leg. "and insisted she could never beat a horse again!"

Lucas laughed and took my hand in his. "My dear Miss Spencer, you are too good!"

"What a presumption, Mr. Austen!" I answered taking my hand from him "I am afraid my brother is misrepresenting me, I am not as good as you think."

"Darling, Abbey!" Race exclaimed. "You are too modest. I agree with you Mr. Austen; my sister is too good. She hasn't done a wrong thing her entire life!"

"How you embarrass me, Charles!"

"Miss Spencer," Lucas interrupted. "If I am not being too bold, might I introduce you to my friends? We would love for you to have tea with us!"

I smiled and took his hand, getting up. "That would be charming Mr. Austen!"

Race and I chatted with his friends for a few minutes until a man came around with tea. I hadn't sat down for tea in almost a year; it felt weird having to use etiquette again. Race watched me like a hawk, trying to copy everything I did. Everything was delicious, except not very filling and I had skipped breakfast and lunch that day. After we had finished I quickly excused myself, saying that I was going to the powderroom, then went in search for a food vendor.

I finally found something I could afford in the lower class section and I moaned; they had philly cheesesteak. I walked up to the man behind the counter and ordered two. As I waited I noticed that I was getting a couple looks; what was a high class girl doing buying a philly cheese? I chuckled to myself, then grabbed my purchase and dug in. I took a huge bite, then noticed someone I didn't want to see. I groaned as he walked towards me, a look of pure amusement plastered on his face.

"Hey Smalls, you got a little something on your face." he said chuckling.

"Can I help you, Conlon?" I said licking my fingers.

"What's up with the dress?" he asked, checking me out.

"I'm incognito." I answered, feeling a little uncomfortable by his stare. "I borrowed it from Medda; I got a job at her theater as stage manager."

He looked amused. "Did you? So does that mean your pick pocking days are over?"

"For now."

He smiled. "Glad to hear it."

I shifted my weight from one heeled shoe to the other; he made me so uncomfortable!

"So, whats the King of Brooklyn doing at the races? Doesn't he have a kingdom to look after?"

"I'm on a date." he answered, waiting to see my reaction.

"You can get a girl?" I said, completely shocked.

He looked annoyed. "Yeah, I can get a girl. Not everyone finds me as disgusting as you do."

"You had to have gotten her pretty inebriated to go out with you!" I said laughing.

"No," he started, beginning to get angry. "I didn't get her...inebriated! In fact, she's quite uninebriated!"

"That's not a word, Spot."

"Just whatf exactly is your problem?" he said, changing the subject. "Are you still mad about what I said the other day?"

"Don't be so daft, Spot!" I answered laughing. "I may have a quick temper, but it never lasts long. I completely forgot about it to tell you the truth. But honestly, I don't care what you think about me or what you say. Believe me, I've heard worse then what you said yesterday."

"Well listen, you get back to your date ok? I need to get back to mine." I said throwing away my trash and putting back on my gloves.

"Who are you seeing?" he said, his eyes furrowing.

"None of your business!" I said, my walls coming back up. "Not like you should care! Now get back to whatever appalling girl your with, I'm sure she's nothing but charming."

Just then, I saw Lucas out of the corner of my eye. He saw me and smiled, waving.

"Now get going! If you blow my cover I'll kill you!" I whispered as I waved. Spot turned and saw Lucas, then sneered.

"So is that the kind of guy your into? What are you, a gold digger?"

I glared at him, feeling my temper flair.

"There you are my dear!" Lucas said smiling at me, then giving Spot disgusted look. "Is this young man bothering you?"

"Oh no, Mr. Austen." I said, my southern accent charming as ever. "He is just a destitute boy looking for a spare nickle. Might you have one to spare? I'm afraid I gave out my last one!"

"But of course!" he exclaimed, as Spot's ears started to turn red. "Here you are. Try and spend it wisely!" Lucas smiled at me and gave me his arm as we walked away, leaving Spot shaking with rage.

Lucas was completely captivated by Abigail Spencer. The rest of the afternoon we chatted as the races continued. The more I talked to him, the more I began to dislike him. He was a complete elitist and thought that the poor became poor because they didn't know how to spend their money. After another hour or so, I truly couldn't take it anymore and gave Race the signal.

"Will I see you again, Miss Spencer?" he asked, standing up from his seat.

I twirled my parasol in the most attractive way, and gave him a small smile. "I certainly hope so Mr. Lucas." He kissed my hand, then watched as I took Race's arm and walked towards the exit.

"You were pure gold, Georgie!" Race said as he tore off his mustache. "You had that guy eating out of your hand!"

"Uh, what a pig!" I said as I took my gloves off. "Did you hear the crap that was coming out of his mouth? Disgusting!"

"To tell you the truth," Race said sheepishly. "I really didn't follow what you guys were talking about very well. Big words, you know."

I gave him a small smile, feeling kind of bad. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that."

"No, it's fine!" he said grinning. "I had a great time! Well, except for the etiquette thing. If you hadn't of been there I would have been totally lost! How do you know that stuff anyway? You know, the big words and what to do in society?"

"I grew up in a fairly wealthy home." I confessed to him. "So naturally I had to learn all that junk. I don't really like to use big words unless I'm trying to show up the upper class or Spot; it's just easier to talk like this."

He smiled. "Your use that vocabulary in front of Spot? Why?"

"Because I like making him feel stupid."

Race burst out laughing, holding his sides. I grinned also.

"So, darling Charles," I said adopting my accent again. "Did I pass your little test?"

"With flying colors my dear Abbey!" he said twirling me around. "Seriously, George, I'm impressed! Somehow, I'm gonna get you on that stage!"

I smiled to myself, Race was such a sweet guy. I couldn't believe what a good day I had. It was late and we were walking alone down the streets of Manhattan, the street lights just coming on.

"I had a job." I said finally as we walked.

"Oh yeah?" he answered, looking at me.

"I worked in a dress shop actually. I mended beautiful gowns at this one shop in the Bronx called Miss Hills. It wasn't too bad; I had Sunday off and worked pretty decent hours. But then I had to quit."

"What happened?"

I sighed remembering my past. "My sister got sick so I had to take care of her."

"What was her name?"

I smiled sadly. "Henry. Dad always wanted boys but instead he got twin girls."

"Ya know George," Race interrupted me. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. That's not what I wanted from today. I honestly had a good time with you, and I really would like to be friends."

I smiled at him and took his hand. "I know Race, and I'm sorry I judged you so quickly this morning. You really are a sweet guy."

He gave my hand a small squeeze and smiled. "Ya know, I feel like I've known you longer then just a day. Do you feel like that?"

I nodded. "Yeah I do." I looked down at my feet. "Race, I've never really had a friend before and I'm usually not very trusting, but for some reason I want to trust you. Should I?"

"Of course!" he answered grinning. "I'm not gonna betray you! Your too much fun to have around!"

I smiled then looked at him, taking a deep breath. Then I told him; I told him everything.

That's Chapter 4. Reviews are fab! Thank you!