*thank you all for your reviews, comments and interest in my story! I love these characters and I love the story I have planned for them...get ready :*) Later in the chapter there's a lovely autumn scene in which there is dancing, and I wanted to provide my inspirational piece in case you'd like to add to the reading! Much love xoxo

music: watch?v=pgGclaUWvDg

Jack awoke the next morning with a rhino running around in his skull.

Fuck.

What an idiot.

He groaned as he sat up, keeping his eyes closed to the bright sunlight on his face. The window was open, he could hear car horns and birds (pigeons), and the smell of hotdogs and burgers wafted into the room. His stomach responded with a low growl.

He glanced up to look at his bedside clock and realized he had passed out on the couch in the living room. He shut his eyes again, still adjusting.

They would be setting columns today on campus, in front of the finished windows...and then they'd be done with this project, on to the next one.

He took a moment to open his eyes, his low furrowing low over his eyes as he squinted. Thank God they had spent the money on a good couch, he wasn't too sore...He saw a glass of OJ and two pain reliever pills waiting for him on the coffee table.

He smirked. David. What a pal, what a housewife.

He frowned...he wondered where work would send them after this project. He doubted he would see Tiffany again on campus. Even with the house party to look forward to, he hated having an opportunity to see her taken from him.

His stomach knotted in nerves: he would see her this weekend...in two days. At her house.

He pushed it from his mind, deciding to be excited and not throw his guts up.

The others had all left; they didn't even try to wake him - he was thankful for it - and he knew they'd already be at the project site, half way through their work. He felt his phone vibrate under him; it was a text from David, asking him to bring his laptop to the site. It was almost noon.

The hangover was almost over, but he wasn't in any rush. He took his time in the shower, resting his head against the cool tile, feeling the hot water flow down his back and legs in tantalizing tickles.

It reminded him...it reminded him of the time he and Ira-

He stopped his thoughts immediately, so abruptly he surprised himself, closing his eyes abruptly.

He both loved and hated to think of her...the way he'd always felt about her. . Like a drug he couldn't-wouldn't shake.

He relaxed his eyes, feeling water droplets forming and falling from his lashes.

He hated to admit it, but there weren't many happy memories with Ira. He fought so hard to remember her but to forget the memories themselves... He suddenly wondered why he'd held on to them for so long, like an addict pumping in the poison he knew would kill him.

All the memories he had were centered around pain, heartbreak, rage...and every time he thought or remembered one...whenever he passed old buildings still standing in old neighborhoods...when he passed Medda's theatre, now converted into a bookstore...when wished he could hear her voice again, he went down a deep rabbithole of torment, feeling the same desperation he had felt a century ago, or feeling the disappointment of being on the other side of the wall she refused to take down for anyone...

He didn't like it. He used to thrive on it, the torment and sadness...when he lived in that dark place filled with grief and pain and her face was the only light in his life...but she could barely shine for herself.

The guys had been so worried about him...when they'd first found him in this life. He couldn't stop himself from falling down the same dark hole...but they did. Their presence helped, gave him something to live for. And Jack found the same joy he'd always known with them.

But now things felt different, thinking of her now, as Tiffany-even if it wasn't her name.

It was a fresh start.

"No more living in the past," he muttered against the tile. "'s time to come back, Jack."

He threw on his work pants and shirt and reached for the darkest sunglasses he could find, on David's desk next to the door…he reached for David's laptop and stopped.

Catching his eye, a familiar letterhead poked out from under the laptop. Jack tugged at the page and confirmed what his eyes saw: The New York Times.

His eyes read the letter immediately, scanning like mad. He read it three times, smirked to himself, and put it back on the desk. He'd bring that up later.

When he stepped outside the apartment building, it was as if the day greeted him with open arms, a chilly breeze washing over his face.

"Mornin', Cowboy."

Jack's eyes landed on the taxi at the curb and he saw Boot's number on the side.

"Your chariot awaits, Cinderella-fella!"

He leaned on the window, grinning at Boot's laughter. He'd been reading the paper with his feet up on the dash.

"'ey, ya wait around for me, Boots Man?"

"I know you: you don' wake up til after 11 after a night out."

"I'm flatta'd."

"C'mon," Boots leaned over and opened Jack's door, and then pulled out two coffee cups. "I'll get ya to the ball."

Jack found the guys gathered at the top of the steps of the building, waiting for the lift equipment.

Jack strode up to them, feeling like utter shit but he grinned at them. The guys chuckled, patting him affectionately on the back, and David passed him a to go coffee. Jack handed him his laptop.

"You're tha best, Dave."

"You'll be callin' me tha best afta ya see's what I did for ya," Racetrack held up a piece of paper, smiling like a cat who'd swallowed two birds. "Lookie lookie at the cookie ya pal Race brought ya."

Racetrack held out the paper and smiled wider at Jack's clear discomfort. "Here, I'll read it for ya my friend, don' trouble yourself, drink ya coffee. It was that last round of tequila, I told you idiots…"

"Just read tha damn thing," Mush grumbled, the others laughing weakly.

Racetrack was annoying in his new-found late-night restraint against alcohol. But he still bought the shots and last rounds on their nights of debauchery, just 'cause. He wouldn't hold back his laughter the next day, like an asshole, as they went through the next day like the living dead. But he was a good asshole.

"Fellas, our next project is inside the arts department, building tha new dance studios."

He waited for a moment, watching them with a comical, cat-eating grin.

"What!" Specs exclaimed happily, the others wincing around him."That's great!"

"'ey Race, that's awesome man," Boomlets said as he squeezed Racetrack's shoulder.

Jack couldn't help but slow smile in answer, his tone cool, "Nice goin', Race, you are tha best asshole a guy could eva have." His heartbeat picked back up, excitement re-entering his veins.

The guys laughed and turned to move materials to make room for the lift equipment and columns. They worked steadily through the afternoon, and finished around four o'clock, the bell tower tolling. They were ravenous, and barked their orders to Mush, who had lost in rock paper scissors to go get the grub. They were wide awake and refreshed after moving stone around, their hangovers long gone.

"Make mine a double pastrami," Racetrack muttered as he lit a cigar. "'an two of those suga-free bubbly drinks."

"What?" Mush asked in surprise, stopping his note-taking on the palm of his hand. "They make those?"

"Dude, your life is about ta change," Race pointed at Mush's hands. "Get whateva flava ya like on me. Man, I am tha man today."

"Ya tha man squawkin' today," Snoddy said irritably.

"Can ya believe how much stuff costs now?" Skittery asked from the scaffolding above them as he handed cash to David. "When did a soda go ova a quart'ah? Shit…"

"We would've been kings back home," Specs laughed as he shook his head, looking up to see the guys staring at him, repeating his words in their heads. "Think about it, with the money we got now - man, I'd be livin' easy. Not tha richest guy, but more than enough for me."

"We got it better now than we had then and it still sucks," Snoddy said before he lit three cigarettes between his lips.

"It's not that bad, it'd jus' be nice not ta pay twenty bucks for lunch every day," Bumlets said as he took the second cigarette, passing the third to Jack as they all took seats on the stone steps of the Arts building. "Ya get screwed no matta tha lifetime."

Their boss was surprisingly cool, Steve. He allowed hour lunches, breaks, leniency. He knew they worked hard and finished jobs quickly, and wasn't worried about paying them too much. As one of the leading contractor construction companies in New York, he was a hard working man from Queens. And he took to the Newsies instantly.

"Get me a Reuben, Mush," Jack said as he slapped cash in Mush's note hand. "'an a large strawberry milkshake."

"We all need cookies and chips, too," Specs shouted from the steps.

Mush was furiously writing, "bunch a fat asses is what you guys are…"

"'an this lunch is a small fortune," David sighed as he put the money in his pocket.

"You surprised?" Jack asked with a grin, blowing out smoke.

"Tha's New York!" Racetrack said with his arms spread wide, motioning to the grandeur all around them.

"New York," they all echoed in dull submission.

David went with Mush to carry everything, and the guys watched the students changing classes, staying out of the way to the far right end of the steps. It made them feel good when the young ladies' eyes roamed over them slowly, giggling.

Sometimes the guys thought about approaching a girl, asking her out. But after some conversations with these new young minds...they decided they needed time to become more accustomed, despite the time they already spent in this life. They still felt out of place.

David and Mush returned with full arms. The sunshine was golden on their faces while they ate their lunch, laughing and talking over each other as they ate hungrily. Evening was falling.

"So, what's tha verdict?" Racetrack said as he sipped on his drink and flicked his cigar, lounging on the steps next to Mush. "Are we doin' costumes or no costumes to this shindig?"

"Of course we're doin' costumes," Mush said strongly. "It's Halloween!"

"They gotta be good," Jack shouted behind him as he walked to a trash can across an intersection in the wide sidewalk.

He threw away his trash, and just as he began to turn back to the guys, he caught sight of the Washington Square fountain, one of the most well known sites in New York City, with the famous arc on the other side. The trees around it were bright orange and yellow, leaves twirling in the breeze and giving the illusion of fire... and the sunlight played on the water. But Jack's eyes were frozen to the figure on the fountain wall.

He didn't hear his friends scrambling behind him after he walked a ways down the sidewalk. Jack stood near one of the lamp posts that lined the large circular courtyard, staying hidden behind it. Dancing in a flowing Grecian dress of ribbons colored in hues of orange, purple and gold, she gracefully and stealthily turned and jumped on the wide fountain ledge of smooth stone, thin dance shoes covering her soles.

There were students filming her, with three cameras pointing at her and lights flashing. People stopped on the sidewalk on the other side of the courtyard to watch her. It was more than easy for her to enchant them with the grace and flow of her body, just as he'd been when he saw her dancing at the nightclub...he thought about Ira on stage at Medda's...but this was different.

Breezes whipped at her hair, her dress, both wrapping around her like the wind itself was touching her, and the ribbons exposed her strong dancer's legs, cleverly covering her. She was completely submerged in her craft and free of thinking of anything else, he could see it on her face. He caught a smirk-she did that smirk before. Like a secret she enjoyed with herself. She...she loved herself. It showed in the way she made her body move to the music playing on a speaker - a cello piece.

He could see her, Ira. He could see her moves, but the woman he saw now made them deeper, extreme and soft, disciplined and commanding, wild and free. She was like a flame, reveling in her own freedom, loving every moment.

Whatever class the video was for, it would get an A just because of her, Jack thought.

He felt the guys behind him, trying to stay hidden by the trees and bushes.

"It's like seeing a dream," Mush said quietly after she kicked her leg high behind her, rising up on her foot. "But I see what you mean, Jack...she' completely different."

"She's happy," David said, a little melancholy. "A life different from the one she's known before, in a different time."

Jack listened as he watched her, like a phoenix rising for the first time, learning what her wings are for. She let the ribbons run between her fingers, even when the crew stopped for a break to reset. She still twirled a little, like a little girl who wanted to keep playing. She smiled and joked with the other students, one girl fixed a ribbon here, pinned something there. The dancer was in her element, surrounded by creatives.

"Ignorance is bliss?" Jack mused, looking at David over his left shoulder.

David looked at him sadly, "maybe."

Racetrack sniffed, and everyone turned to see him looking at his phone: he had filmed one of her leaps, her gracefulness. He dabbed his eye, "whatta ya goons lookin' at. Somethin' in my eye..."

"Ah, c'mon ya ballbags," Snoddy threw his arms around Bumlets and Mush as they all turned to walk away. "We gotta hunt down some hunt down…"

"There's a Halloween shop near that pharmacy…"

David looked back and saw Jack glued to his spot, watching her.

"You going as a hopeless romantic?" David teased, smiling at the smirk on his friend's face.

"Are ya callin' me pathetic, Dave?" he teased back darkly.

"Never. I'd call that love."

Jack rolled his eyes, throwing his arm around David, and turned to follow the others. "Let's all stop talkin' 'bout me an' my pathetic hang-ups, 'kay? Instead, I wanna talk about tha letta under your latptop, Mr. Assistant Deputy Editor."

David's face dropped and blushed, and Jack let out a big belly laugh.

"Oh, your face! Why didn't ya say anything, Dave?" he tighted his arm, faking a choke hold.

David laughed, "I only found out this morning, just enjoying it to myself. I was going to bring it up tomorrow, after the party tonight."

"It's important," Jack said simply, still walking in stride with each other. He looked him in the eye, "'kay? It's important to me, an' it's important to tha knuckle heads."

David laughed, nodding, " Thanks, Jack. Just hope I can match the editors around me: Pulitzer Prize winners, previous editorial work with National Geographic-"

"Well, you's can tell 'em you beat ol' Joe Pulitzer with a bunch a kids one time, how many assholes can say that?"

They both laughed as they followed their friends under the falling leaves.