The next day, Friday, passed by in an uninteresting blur: the guys split up between finishing their previous project and going to buy/scope out material for the next. Jack and David met up with their boss Steve at a local supply company to pick out wood for the new floors, mirrors, paint, hardware. Everything would be delivered to the site by Monday, and they'd begin construction on the new dance studios.

It was now Fall Break, and the students were flitting about the campus, excited for a week off, excited that Halloween fell inline with their break. Steve gave the guys the weekend off, and they'd have the campus all to themselves to begin and finish the dance studios.

That night the Newsies stayed in. Racetrack and Spot argued over movies to rent on the Apple TV, David was engrossed with an article on his computer, Bumlets and Snoddy were making dinner...and burning it. Jack looked around...where was Mush?

Jack opened the apartment door without the others noticing, wearing nothing but his sweatpants. He had intended to look for Mush in the basement...but as he stuck his head into the hall and listened, he could hear music coming from above.

He bounded up the stairs to follow the sound, his bare feet noiseless on the steps. He opened a metal door next to the last apartment, revealing metal stairs, and he heard the music on the other side of the door that led to the roof.

He opened it, feeling a chilly breeze wash over his upper body, and he had to grin a little at what he saw.

The roof didn't have much of anything except for the view. The sky was ablaze with brilliant orange and pink hues, the clouds around the setting sun glowing as if they were on fire. To the far right was the Brooklyn Bridge, the city beyond it.

Air vent shafts poked up here and there, but the roof was flat and clear. Mush stood in the middle of it, panting and sweating, staring at Jack in blank surprise. He'd been dancing, and the music still played from a small speaker he'd put inside one of the air vent hoods, amplifying the sound.

"Jack," Mush said casually, his voice a little higher than usual. He tried to slow his breathing, sweat dripping off his nose and his short curly hair. "what-what's up, brother?"

The guy was ripped, but Jack knew how good of a dancer Mush was. Anyone would be fit if they danced the way he did.

"Gettin' some practice in?" Jack asked with a small smirk, strolling to the side of the roof to look out over the bridge, the water of the river dark and slow moving. The lights of the city twinkled against the colorful sky, darkening behind the city-scape, and the sun's rays bounced off windows and mirrored glass of skyscrapers, the Chrysler building. Like the postcards they saw on street vendors every day.

Mush blushed a little, scratching the back of his head, "It gets too hot in tha basement...thought this would be betta."

"Much betta," Jack agreed, turning to look at his friend. "We all used ta be so fit, hoppin' all ova tha place all tha time, not carin' who saw...now we're a bunch of lazy bastards."

They laughed and Mush looked at him for a moment. "You could do it with me, ya know," he said eagerly, his eyes excited now instead of embarrassed. "You used ta be good, real good...I bet you still are."

Jack scoffed, "Nah, I'd feel silly now."

"I felt silly too," Mush reassured him. "But once ya know how to turn off your brain and just listen-" He snapped his fingers, "It all comes back, Jack. C'mon, don' ya wanna look like ya know what you're doin' in a room full of professional dancers?"

Jack hadn't allowed himself to think about that - his throat suddenly felt tight. He looked out to the sunset again, the breeze cooling his face. He didn't like showing his weaknesses...or doubting himself.

"C'mon, Jack...you're already dressed for it." Mush gestured to his sweats and then to Jack's.

Jack had to laugh, but he'd never thought about it before...If he were able to dance with her, and not look like a fool...oh man.

"What if we could impress them," Mush pushed, grinning.

After a moment of debate in his head, Jack huffed.

"Tell no one," he threatened darkly, conceding.

"Alright!" Mush exclaimed as he went over to his phone to pick a new song. "Just listen and find the rhythm, and don't think too much-don't think at all, Cowboy. Just do what feels natural. I promise, you won't look like an idiot."

"Show me," Jack challenged.

Mush looked up from his phone and stared at Jack for a long moment before smiling shyly, "alright, sure, okay. Uh, yeah, I'll start..."

Mush liked The Weekend, and played one of his songs. "Don't judge," he said to Jack darkly, smiling at Jack's laugh. Jack crossed his arms and leaned against the half wall.

Mush stood still, focusing himself, and relinquished control: his body began to speak, following the rhythms he could hear, becoming one with the song somehow. Nothing about him was still, like the colors in the sky.

Jack's smile dropped as he watched his friend, taken by serious surprise. Mush's movements were strong, fluid, his feet carried him effortlessly, his prowess emerging...because he wasn't concerned with anything but hearing the music, feeling it.

It had been the same with Tiffany, when she danced on stage at the club, on the fountain...her only concern was turning her body over to the music, to lose herself.

Ira had tried to do the same, never quite able to shake her thoughts, herself, or the pain she carried...

But Mush did it effortlessly...he knew hip hop, foot work, spins, hip motions. He could've been a famous dancer for the music videos that were always being filmed around the city. He pushed his body to keep up, to execute the moves, and with the sunset behind him, he looked like he was in his own music video...

Jack wondered where he'd learned all of this...and then memories of summer came to him, when they'd finish selling their papes, and they'd run and jump all over the city to get to the docks...they'd flip and spin in midair, trying new tricks, land in the water, laugh...carefree.

"Jump on in, Cowboy."

Jack's trance was broken and he looked up to see Mush smiling at him, motioning for him to come closer.

"Just listen," Mush said, a little afraid he'd lose the temporary hold he had gained on his friend. Jack could be a slippery fish...and shy, though he'd never admit it.

Jack huffed a sigh before taking a step forward.

….

Jack felt a new restlessness growing inside him when he woke on Saturday morning. They still didn't have costumes.

"No no, I got it, listen to this, Cowboy," Boots said excitedly, the only one fully awake, eating cereal cross legged on the couch. The others were lazy around him, draped over the L shape couch like a bunch of good for nothin' cats.

Jack shuffled past them to the kitchen, feeling what felt like every muscle in his body comfortably sore from all the dancing he and Mush did last night, past midnight. It had felt...good.

Jack ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm listenin', Boots. 'ey Mush your timer is goin' off!"

"Take 'em out!" Mush hollered from the shower in his and Racetrack's bathroom.

Boots told the room his idea while Jack took the chocolate peanut butter cookies out of the oven - pot cookies for the party. Mush made the best.

"Best idea we heard all day!' Racetrack said as he entered the kitchen, reaching for a cookie.

Jack hit the top of his hand with a spatula, and the guys laughed at Race from the living room.

"Price for my idea is admission to the party," Boots added slyly.

"Fine, but if they kick you out, we don't know you," Spot said without breaking concentration from the video game he played with Specs and Snoddy.

"I gotta hit it," Boots said as he went to put his cereal bowl in the dishwasher. He stuck his head between Jack and Race, smelling the cookies as he put his taxi nametag on his shirt. "Go to a thrift store an' get suits that look cool but don't care ta get paint on. Snag me somethin', you guys know my taste. I'll be by around 8 ta get ya."

"But it starts at 7," David questioned.

The guys laughed and shook their heads, Boots laughed himself out the door and down the hallway stairs.

"Ah, Davey, you never show up at the beginning of a party," Spot said as he killed Snoddy's game character. "You gotta get there jus' when it's gettin' started."

"Son of a bitch!" Snoddy pushed the x button on his controller like a madman, Specs laughing next to him. They began elbowing each other, and then they forgot about the video game entirely as they climbed on top of each other, wrestling.

"There's so many thrift shops," David said over the rabble, staring at Google maps on his laptop. "There's about twenty of them on this side of Brooklyn alone...how will we know which one is the best?"

"Help is on the way," Jack said, typing one handed on his phone as he placed the cookies on a platter. "Snoddy an' Specs, you guys mind snagging the paint for us in a bit?"

"Sure thing, Cowboy. Glow in the dark right?"

"Yeah, see if they's got some neon green or sumthin'."

They carried on with their Saturday morning: Jack made eggs, bacon and pancakes, Bumlets and David did some cleaning, Racetrack and Spot argued.

"What do ya mean ya couldn't get tickets?" Race asked loudly. "We've been plannin' for this race for months."

"Open ya ears, blockhead: I COULDN'T GET TICKETS. An' tha horse we want has been doin' terrible."

"If ya want somethin' done…" Race shook his head to himself as he pulled out his phone, stuffing eggs angrily into his mouth. "Tell me what I wanna know, phone…"

They worked out a little, using Jack's weight sets. Jack felt good, loosened up, and just as they were all getting showered and dressed, there was a knock.

Jack opened the door after pulling a t-shirt over his head, seeing Kat smiling on the other side.

"'s up, Kat?"

"Hey, Jack."

"Kat!"

The guys spilled into the living room, some still half dressed, and they sent her around the group to hug each of them. She looked like a model from the 60's: orange corduroy jumper with a long sleeve white turtleneck underneath, with black velvet ankle boots, orange and yellow flowers embroidered on them.

"Alright alright, let's go slow pokes!" she motioned them towards the door. "While the day is still young!"

She smirked at Jack, "Gimme at least an hour and a half before you smoke the joints in your pockets."

Jack laughed, and the others played insult.

"Now c'mon, down and around the next block, we're going to The Thread Cat. Best thrift in town!"

Jack, Mush, and Kat jumped in David's car, Race rode with Spot in the Townie, and the others split off to go get paint.

"I'm feeling a little nervous now," David admitted as he pulled away from the curb.

"Nah, they're cool," Mush said. "just act like we're at Ira's...just gotta be ourselves."

"And you'll look fantastic," Kat reassured, twisting around to see the guys in the back. "They've got some sweet suit pieces at this location, and they're a great local chain. It'll feel more like the clothes you're used to."

She smiled and they laughed, nodding in appreciation.

"How's school?"

Kat looked to Jack, smiling friendly at him. "I love it. I'm focusing on fine arts, scenes and landscapes, urban paintings. There's an opportunity to go to France for the Spring...I want to go, but…"

Her eyes saddened a little and Jack understood.

"Don't wait for him," Mush said gently.

Kat turned her head to Mush, meeting his strong unwavering gaze. The others looked at him too, David's eyes on him in the rearview mirror.

"Don' miss out on your life waiting for him to remember his. He will find you once he does, you know he will."

Everyone got quiet, a new song by Alabama Shakes playing on the radio. Kat looked sad but she nodded, her smile coming back as the sun shined on her face through the sunroof. She closed her eyes, basking.

"Man, Mush," David said. "'s good."

"He's right," she said. "And I'll probably go just to make myself feel alive with the thought, the fear of being away when it happens."

"I know tha feelin'," Jack said, watching the blue sky above the buildings as David went from light to light.

"Part of me hopes one of you will just punch him," she said lightly. The guys laughed, and her sadness went away.

They parked outside a loudly painted building, two-story brick covered in blue waves, pink and yellow splashes, green painted vines. There were some vintage outfits on display in the front windows, fun lighting and colors all over. The outfits looked almost Victorian on skeleton mannequins.

"This shop looks like a Spot Spot," Spot said as he joined them on the sidewalk. They laughed and shook their heads at him ("What? I'm cleva!") and they followed Kat up the porch steps and inside.

There was a young woman with long dreads in a bun behind the front counter, and a guy with perfect round glasses and a prominent mustache, his head completely shaved, was busy around the clothing racks. They both shouted happily when Kat entered the parlor room.

Antique chandeliers hung from the ceiling with little price tags fluttering on them, racks of clothing were everywhere, organized by clothing type, color, and size, and there were all kinds of mirrors covering the walls with pieces of art. It was easily the coolest store they'd ever seen.

Kat told her friends what they were looking for...dark colored trousers, button up shirts, suspenders...hats if they had them. They went to work, the guys perusing the racks while Kat collected items from her friends, chatting with them happily.

"Ooo, Racetrack," Kat held up a navy bowler hat.

"That's a Boots hat, I'm more of a cap kinda guy. But get it for 'im, he'll be happy to have a hat again."

"You'd look good in those, David," Kat said as she saw the dark navy slacks in his hands. "With the blood red suspenders."

Kat shoved Jack, Mush and Racetrack into stalls, stuffing clothes into their arms to try on. If something didn't fit them, they tossed clothes to each other back and forth, seeing what looked best.

Kat and her friends had an eye for this, and they were out of the store less than two hours later. Admiring their vintage finds, they drove through an old classic dairy dip drive-thru, one that had been there since the 50's. They ate cheeseburgers and drank shakes in the cars, parked next to each other, and took their times going back to the apartment.

"What are you gonna do tonight, Kat?" Jack asked as they pulled up to their street.

"I'm going over to Medda's," she said excitedly. "She wanted a girls night, classics and musicals. Come by after the party, if you want."

They all clamored up the steps of their building and this time showed Kat around the place. She laughed at them as they got distracted from their mission. She pulled the paint out of the shopping bags on the coffee table. "Alright, get dressed! Paint needs more time than you think."

The guys stood there in their vintage "suits" of loose but nicely fitting trouser pants, dark muted colors, comfortable button up shirts, suspenders and hats. They laughed in spite of themselves.

"This is similar to the last thing I wore in 1901," Racetrack said like a smartass, the others laughing.

Kat took a brush and began to paint skeleton bones on them, their skin and their clothes, with glow in the dark neon green paint.

"What if they don't have a blacklight?" Snoddy asked loudly from his couch lounging, playing a video game with a wireless controller, leaning around Spot to see the TV. "You guys think about that?"

Spot stuck his butt out, still holding his arms aloft to let the fresh paint dry. Snoddy scowled and leaned further, falling off the couch. The guys roared with laughter. Specs and Bumlets threw M&Ms into Mush's open mouth, all laughing.

"Trust me," Kat said with a laugh, painting bones on Mush's forearms (she wanted their sleeves rolled up, said it would look cooler). "All good Halloween parties have blacklights."

Jack was in dark gray pants, almost black, with a roomy red button up, black bandana tied around his neck, black suspenders. Kat worked some gel into his hair, sweeping it back.

"I'm excited for you," she said to him. "I wonder what they'll be dressed as." She started painting his face, the last to be done.

"Can't wait to find out," Spot said with a grin as he looked in the mirror over the TV, tilting his cap.

And just like that, 6 hours had passed. David, dressed in a classic navy suit, looked at his watch. "We gotta go guys. Boots is probably already down stairs."

"Good luck!" Kat shouted after them after Mush kissed her on the cheek and dashed out the door, cookie platter in hand.

They piled into Boots' taxi, off duty, and the guys threw his clothes at him, Jack put his new navy bowler hat on his head, smiling. Boots had known they wouldn't have time to paint him, and he didn't care- he only wanted to come along.

The night was clear and chilly, people in costumes everywhere. The weekend before Halloween. Jack looked up at the sky, seeing a few stars between the buildings. Mush passed him a joint.

"For tha nerves, man," but it was Mush who seemed nervous.

"They're not too far from where we live," Boots commented as he looked at the directions on his phone. He whistled. "They're in a real nice part of town."

"Let's stop by the store for a bottle," Spot said from the back seat. "Can't show up without booze, that's an insult."

After buying a bottle of whiskey, Boots left their part of Brooklyn and drove east, towards the older districts that were now young and hip. Families bought the monstrous Victorian houses or young rich people rented them with friends. It was rare for homes to still be passed along in older families, unless they were as rich as the Rockefellers.

They were still surprised when Boots pulled up to the address Mush had given him. A nervous chill/ sweat mix broke over each of them as they stared at the house from the sidewalk.

"Whoa."

Three story sandstone brick, a sizable covered porch, balconies on the front and right side of the house, windows everywhere both original and added. The left side was rounded, no doubt where the stairs were. There was even a balcony on the third floor, which appeared to be one room from the mood lighting…the attic.

Purple lights illuminated the front, casting dark shadows, and they could see strobe lights changing inside the windows on the first floor. Stringy spider webs draped over everything, even the iron gate and mailbox.

Mush let out a huff, "Ok, they like us, this will be fun…"

"Don't act weird," Spot said with furrowed brows. But his eyes betrayed him.

Jack scoffed at their faces and tilted his head, "c'mon, scaredy cats."