Past Secrets and Present Times
Chapter 28
By Hotshot
Waking up the next morning was hell. The boys had seemingly agreed the day before that she had to be up the same time as them. It wasn't entirely bad though. It was the beginning of two days where she could disappear off the face of the earth and no one would know. The judge had given her free reign of her time for the few days where he needed to make his decision.
She was woken up by two Brooklyn newsies falling out of the bunk above her and landing on the floor with two loud thuds, one of them hitting the edge of her bunk first. "Roman," she named the one that had nearly landed on her bed, "There aren't any more of you up there that are gonna fall on me if I get up are there?"
"Nope," he yawned.
She stood and was thrown back to the ground when a newsie from the next bunk over fell and landed on her. "Swinger, get offa me!" she shoved the older boy off and looked around for other potential attackers.
She quickly ran a brush through her hair and washed her face. The increased number of guys made it difficult to get into the washroom in the morning. She made her way toward the door, and the quickest exit from the building but there seemed to be plenty of people getting in her way.
"So Hotshot," Skittery blocked her way, flanked by Dutchy, Snoddy and Jake, "The goils at this party on Thursday. Ya think ya could set us up wit' some of them."
She rolled her eyes, "I'll invite 'em but you'se gotta set yourselves up. And trust me the rich girls aren't what you're looking for." With that she shoved past him and slipped out the door. The sooner she got out the sooner she'd get away from similar questions from the other boys.
About halfway between the lodging house and the Jacob's she ran into David and Les and yelled out in greeting. "Hey fellas! So Mouth how was your first night home?"
"Fine," he said, "But it feels good getting' back to work. Too bad you ain't joinin' us taday. Where are you an' Sarah goin' anyway?"
"There's a girls lodging house right near the Brooklyn Bridge. She's got some friends to introduce me to. I figure it would be nice to invite some girl newsies to the party on Thursday."
"What, you don't wanna invite Hummingbird and her cronies."
She laughed, "I'd sooner pull out all my hair. You met any of them? From what I hear Sarah's known them for a while. They sell the Sun I think."
"I met a few of them. They're slightly crazy but ok."
"Good, I'll catch up with you an' the guys later." With a nod she passed them and continued to the Jacobs' building where Sarah was waiting on the front steps.
The entire way to the girls lodging house they gossiped about the Manhattan and Brooklyn guys. Sarah even admitted that she thought Tiner was cute. Hotshot laughed at the fact that Tiner; one of Mitchell's ex-newsies had said the same about her. "What about you and Jack?"
"What, a girl can't have a backup?"
"I don't."
"You aren't dating anyone."
"Well when I was dating Spot and I didn't. Come to think of it I didn't with Specs either."
"That doesn't mean you don't think the other guys are cute."
"Hell no, some of 'em are very cute?"
The two laughed and Sarah began to list whom she thought each of the girls liked. When they reached the lodging house girls were pouring out the front door so they climbed the fire escape to the third floor. While the other floors had been void of girls the room they entered was crowded with about a dozen girls of various ages and styles. A few yelled greetings, though all were gathered around a small Poker game. As one girl with long blonde hair won she only smirked as the others threw in their cards.
Sarah laughing caught everyone's attention, "You four will have to play Hotshot later. Some new competition for ya."
"How 'bout you introduce us then?" One girl sad glaring at the newcomer.
"I told you I was brining her. You guys this is Hotshot, the one who lived in Brooklyn and the Manhattan lodging house."
"The one in all the papes for the last month?" asked a girl who reminded Hotshot very much of Racetrack.
"Yeah, I guess that'd be me," Hotshot nodded, "Sarah, why don't you introduce me so I'm not completely lost."
"Are we sellin' today?" Sarah asked, dropping partially to a New York accent.
"Maybe this afternoon…"
Sarah nodded, "Then everyone sit and you can introduce yourselves." Following her advice the girls settled in a circle, taking various seats on bunks, chairs and the floor.
"I'm Chiara," the first girl said. She was on the short side and exotic looking with dark brown hair and eyes, "It's Italian for Star so I never got a newsie name, I'se fourteen."
"I'se Splash, an' I'm sixteen," the next girl started. She was of medium height but being thin made her look taller. She had medium brown hair and deep brown eyes. She pulled back her right sleeve showing off a scar, "I got the name 'cause I made some big splashing scene after getting' bit by a bull shark in Pennsylvania."
"Tigerlily," a girl with light red hair and green eyes introduced herself, "No one remembers where the name came from."
"Mouse," the next girl said. She was the one who had won the poker game. She had long blonde hair, which she was busy twisting into buns, and blue eyes. "I'm almost seventeen. My parents died in a fire and the bulls used to call me Street Mouse." The girl was quiet and on the short side. Hotshot knew she was perfect for one of the guys but couldn't think of which one.
"I'm Shade, or the Shadow Cat, whichever you prefer. I'm fifteen, almost sixteen." The girl who spoke sat in the shadow of a bunk. She was short and scrawny, reminding Hotshot a little of Spot. She even had his smirk plastered on her face. She was pale but had almost black hair and deep brown eyes. "And the names a long story, to make it short, I'm a pickpocket, I ditch the bulls." Definitely like Spot, mixed with Race maybe.
"Sweets, or Kaboom, depends on my mood," She had big brown eyes and dirty blonde hair with copper streaks and bangs. "I'm sixteen. Most of the time I'm really sweet but I have a tiny tendency to blow up when I get mad."
"Tiny? That's the understatement of the year." The next girls hair was dark and hung in a French braid that reached to her waist. Her eyes were almost black and her glare almost rivaled Spot's. Hotshot nodded when the glare landed on her. "I'm Glare, for obvious reasons, turned sixteen back in August."
"Canada, I just turned eighteen." The next girl had short brown hair with natural copper highlights and sparking hazel eyes. "I lived with my great aunt in Toronto for five years and ran away when I moved down here. My uncle was the most cold and indifferent man in New Yo-"
"Biggest exaggeration of the year." Glare mused.
Canada swatted at the younger girl good-naturedly.
"Laze, sixteen," It was the girl who reminded Hotshot of Race. She had layered brown hair and pale brown eyes. She looked like the girls Kid Blink and Mush usually talked about at the hospital. "It's short for lazy, because these people think I have a tendency to be lazy." Definitely like Racetrack, sarcasm to the max.
"Random, I'm seventeen," The next girl was tall with short chestnut brown hair and green eyes. "Some people say I make random comments. Where's my cards…" she drifted off topic.
"Dodger, I just turned sixteen," the last girl said. She was tall with raven black hair cut just below her ears and emerald green eyes. "Name came up 'cause I got out of some big fight without a scratch."
"I say you owe us some more about you." Glare commented.
"Ok, I'm seventeen," Hotshot said. "When I first got to Brooklyn Rebel, the old leader said I was overconfident and Spottie called me Hotshot. Unfortunately I ended up dating the guy… but that's over."
"So you girls feel like coming to a little party in Brooklyn on Thursday," Hotshot jumped to the point.
The girls looked at her a little strangely, not trusting her much.
"Aww, don' make me beg. There's gonna be a bunch a rich goils there an' I need some normal people there. Ain't no way I'm invitin' Hummin'boid and that group. Newsies from Brooklyn an' Manhattan I promise, plus the rich guys to mess wit'."
As if by insulting the lower newsgirls broke some walls all the other girls laughed and accepted. The gossip and card games started. By the time they went out to walk to the distribution center for the afternoon edition Hotshot was already plotting to set some of them up. Shade and Sarah were working on getting outfits from Irving Hall, where they worked.
She sold papers with them for a few hours, noticing they had different techniques that the guys did. While Sarah and the girls tried to convince her to stay at the lodging house for a few more hours after she had to turn them down, she needed to get back to the guys lodging house.
Even though she got back late the bunkroom was almost empty. There were a few groups playing cards and Race chasing Snipeshooter around the room swearing angrily in Italian.
"Where is everyone?" She asked Spot, "An' what'd Snipeshooter do this time?"
"Race's cigar, what else." He folded from the game with Jack, "All the boys except Royal, Pickpocket, Roman, Swinger, Wick, Spitfire, and Tiner went back to Brooklyn. A bunch of the guys are still at Tibby's."
"Less people need to share beds then?"
"Snitch an' Itey, Snipa an' Boots, and two Brooklyn boys hafta share a bunk until you leave."
"Well, I'm sorry to be such an inconvenience," she said sarcastically, turning back to watch Race chase the younger newsie around.
The younger newsie wasn't as practiced in the bunkroom so while he dodged around bunks Race jumped through them. He ran and hid behind Hotshot and Spot with a pleading help-me look in his eyes.
"Cigar," Spot put out his hand as Race screeched to a halt in front of them. Snipeshooter reluctantly handed over his prize, which Spot gave back to Race. "Maybe if you'se good one of the boys'll buy you one for Christmas."
Race collapsed on an empty bunk, the cigar clamped firmly between his teeth. As soon as everyone had stopped paying attention it was right back in the cup on his table.
New bunks had been set up when the Brooklynites left. Bumlets and Specs switched bunks so Bumlets was over Hotshot and Specs was under Skittery, diagonally across from her. It ended up that none of the Brooklyn boys had to share a bunk because Kid Blink still wasn't back.
Kloppman had to wake everyone up the next morning seeing as they'd all stayed up so late the night before. It was a mad dash for the washroom for everyone to be ready. As soon as everyone had washed up there seemed to be a tidal wave of boys flowing out the front door and through the streets. They met with the boys from other lodging houses at the square and meshed into a sort of line when Weasel let them in.
Usual comments were thrown as the newsies passed Weasel. The man was red with anger and frustration by the time Hotshot reached him. "Well, well, well, if it ain't little miss trouble herself." He snapped irritably.
"Heya Wease. How ya been? How's da family?" She peered through the bars as Oscar and Maurice brought over a new load of papers for the newsies. She backed away, "Ugh! Ugly as ever I see."
"What can I do ta get rid a you?" he snapped at her.
She slammed down two quarters, "Hundred papes an' you'll be rid a me for a few days."
"Gladly," he shoved the papers under the bars at her.
"Later dim wits." She called to the Delancy's as she walked down the ramp. The next few boys in line laughed at her antics.
Since Mush was busy visiting Kid Blink again she took his advice for a selling spot and wandered down Bottle Alley. The place was full of people selling various items out of the backs of carts and off of little stands. There were several languages spoken around her and she yelled headlines in both English and Spanish.
A voice yelling in French announced a different approach on the same story she was trying to work, and doing it better. The newsie was surrounded by a swarm of people as he switched from French to Dutch, to German, then Italian. Hotshot made her way through the swarm to find Bumlets working the crowd. She began selling her papers along with him copying his headlines. The two worked their way down the crowded road selling papers. They were almost done when they reached the end and Bumlets started to walk back the way they had come, trying to translate the headlines he'd used for Hotshot. She yelled the headlines in Spanish, attracting a few customers that Bumlets had been unable to get.
As they reached the end near the main road Hotshot spoke, "I take it you sell 'round here a lot."
"Guess so, Used to live her wit' me muddah so I picked up a lot of languages and know some of the people."
"Cheater." She accused.
"Hey, you got Spanish. That's one of the languages I didn't learn." He handed one man a paper and spoke rapidly to him in Portuguese. The man smiled and said something back, handing Bumlets two apples. Bumlets handed one to Hotshot, "Ya wanna head over ta Tibby's."
She nodded taking a bite and giving her last paper to an elderly man for free. They strolled down to the tiny restaurant, which was full of newsies by then. She dropped into a chair at a full table.
"So what's this 'ball' that youse dad's planning for tomorrow?" Jake asked.
"It's stupid," Hotshot muttered.
"Indulge us," Jack prompted, "What's it about."
"Well, when most girls of high class are like thirteen or fourteen their parents have this thing called a debutante ball where their parents introduce them into society. I think the whole thing is sorta medieval but my dad still wants to do it so I'se up for it. You guys unfortunately, hafta dress nice."
Race stood, "Whatcha talkin' 'bout. I'se always dressed nice."
Hotshot put her head in her hands to keep from laughing out loud. As usual Race was wearing three different patterns of plaid.
"You invited some newsgoils, right?" Snoddy prodded.
"Girls lodgin' house near the Brooklyn Bridge. About a dozen of 'em."
Hotshot had a quick lunch and wandered out of the crowded restaurant. With only a few hours left before her father was picking her up she wasn't sure what she should do. She bought fifty papers and wandered to central park. Young, rich couples were almost all that could be found there in the afternoon. Most of them frowned down on her, the girls especially. Even though she was of a lower stature guys still paid attention to her, especially since she was able to look like a girl now.
She walked along the paths yelling headlines and trying to sell to anyone she passed. Those who didn't buy papers she sometimes followed around until they did. She walked through the park for about the fifth time with barely a dozen papers left. No one was buying no matter how many exciting headlines she yelled.
"Looks like you need some new material."
She turned to the familiar voice with a smirk on her face, "What's it ta you?" As he walked toward her she stepped backwards along the path.
"I thought you might like a selling partner, it being your last day and all."
She laughed and turned around beginning to walk away. Specs dashed after her, wrapping an arm around her waist, "C'mon."
"Who says it's my last day. The way you say it makes it sound like you thought I was going back with the Pulitzers." She spoke with a cool tone and had a look to match, "You don't think I'm gonna go back there do you?"
"You never know Hotshot," he muttered, biting his lip as the two of them began to walk again. "I mean, I don' want you ta get sent back wit' 'em, but if you listen as an outsider ta what was said in that trial… The judge could lean either way. An' if not," he tried to lighten the mood, "it's youse last day before this is all over."
"You couldn't have waited until Friday morning to tell me this, could you?" She gave him a look that boasted that she wasn't going to lose.
"My, my, my, whatta we got here?" The often-annoying voice rose from behind them.
Hotshot glanced back and groaned, "A moments peace; is that too much to ask?" As she shook her head several other newsies came up to join them. Race, Spot, Pickpocket, Roman, Wick, Jack, and Dutchy all gathered around the duo. Jack stole her extra papers and began handing them out to everyone. She just rolled her eyes and mumbled a brief thanks. Specs again, wrapped an arm around her waist in a friendly manner, and kicked Race when he began to comment.
The boys yelled a few headlines and sold the papers off quickly to a few young ladies with their boyfriends at the park. Just like the guys were attracted to newsgirls the ladies seem particularly attracted to the boys (::looks around blankly:: can't imagine why?).
Hotshot smiled as she saw a certain group of people a little ways down the path. Hummingbird and her entourage were a few yards ahead of them. She nodded to Hummingbird as they passed, enjoying the jealous looks in the girl's eye. None of the guys had so much as said hello to her because they were too busy talking about plans for the next night. Hotshot was very tempted to throw a mocking comment at the girl but Spot whispered in her ear.
"They're comin' tomorrow night, so I wouldn't."
"Who invited them?"
"I told your dad to. How else are you gonna show that girl up? If you insult her now she might not come."
"Oh, yeah, that would be such a tragedy." With a roll of her eyes she began to race back to the lodging house.
The bunkroom was crowded with people, back from selling early. The boys came in after her, most of them arguing with Race over some racing form. Hotshot glanced at her watch, realizing with regret that her father was picking her up in an hour. The others dispersed to separate parts of the room as she started packing. The very few things that she was taking with her were scattered over her bunk easily fit into a small bag. The rest was staying there until Friday, at least. Using the key hanging around her neck she began to scratch her name into the underside of the bunk above hers. It was tradition; dozens of other names were there as well. Bumlets. Ambition. Waves. And plenty of others she did or did not recognize.
"Hotshot!" Kloppman called, coming up the stairs. She was only done with the first three letters and rolled off the bunk quickly so she wouldn't be caught. "Your brother is downstairs waiting for you."
"Comin'!" she called back. As she stood several newsies came over and hugged her goodbye. The younger ones first and then some of the older boys. She was only supposed to be gone for a few days but if court went badly it might be a while before they saw her again. She hugged Snipeshooter, Boots, Roman, Swinger, Pickpocket, Crutchy, Skittery, Snoddy, Pie Eater, Bumlets, and Dutchy. Race patted her on the back and told her to have fun. She spit-shook with Jack and David. The last thing she did was search the room for Specs and Spot.
As she ambled down the stairs she found her brother sitting on the front desk, dressed full out like a newsie. He was telling Spot about an encounter earlier that day I Brooklyn.
"So this newsie, he's maybe Hotshot's age," he explained, "Stops me an' he's like 'Whatta ya think youse doin'. This is Brooklyn. Spot's newsies are the only ones allowed to sell here. Beat it!' So I tells this kid, I do know Spot Conlon, known him since he was seven or eight years old."
"He woulda had to be real gullible to believe that just 'cause you said it," Spot drawled.
"Well he didn't. Wit' this real hoity-toity attitude he says 'Yeah right, I bet you can't name any of the odda Brooklyn newsies.' Which is a good question 'cause youse the only one that's really widely known. So I leaned down a little to be face to face with him and said, Well if Hotshot hears how bad you been treatin' her bruddah, or Rebel hears how you been treatin' his best friend I suggest you get outta here pretty quick.
The kids jaw dropped. Ta hear I was Rebel's best friend-"
"Yeah, you were," Spot admitted
"Anyway to hear I knew the old leader and Hotshot. I mean plenty of scabs know her name but most of them are too stupid to know she's a girl even wit' the papers. The kid was gone in a matter a seconds."
"I'd appreciate it in the future if you would refrain from using me to make yourself feel so powerful around them." Hotshot leaned against the railing with her arms crossed over her chest, "Where's dad?"
"Home, I wanted to find Spot so I told him I'd come get you. 'Sides, the man just got out of prison so he'd probably get lost in Manhattan."
"A newsie can't get lost in New York." She and Spot said together. Both laughed.
Blackjack rolled his eyes, "You're both nuts."
She and Spot spit-shook and she walked out with him. Blackjack was just about to get into the carriage ahead of her when she spotted Specs. He yelled after her when she started over to him but she ignored him.
"Have fun," Specs said glancing over her shoulder and mock saluting her fed up brother. "Teach him how to play cards again."
"Oh, he still knows. Beat Ace and Royal last weekend," she grinned, "You'll be there tomorrow night, right?"
"Wouldn't miss it for The World." He laughed. "So you carve youse name in?"
"Part of it. I'll finish it when I get back."
"Are you always this overconfident?"
"Hotshot had to come form somewhere, didn't it." She sighed, "I'll see you."
"Yeah, see ya." He kissed her once on the forehead before retreating to where Dutchy and Bumlets were waiting on the steps.
Hotshot walked over to the carriage and climbed in after her bored stiff brother. As they pulled away from the lodging house she head the familiar noise that signaled three newsies jumping onto the back of the coach. She almost laughed. She launched into telling her brother about the fight. He seemed interested but had a certain overprotective look on his face. "Don't you dare tell Dad." She warned.
"Brooke, youse gonna be as famous as Spot, at least."
She shrugged noticing they were nearing the hospital, "What's the driver's name?"
"Louis."
"Hey Louis," she yelled, "Stop in front of the hospital for a minute."
The young man pulled the coach to a stop in front of the large building and the newsies jumped off the back.
"Thanks," Specs said, coming to the window.
"Hey, tell Kid I found the perfect girl for him."
"Really, think you could find one for me?" Specs rose an eyebrow grinning.
"I might be able to fins somebody." She leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the lips. He stepped back off the step as the carriage pulled away and waved.
The rest of the carriage ride was silent. It was an ending in a way, of her freedom. If the Pulitzer's won she'd never get back to the lodging house. If she won it wouldn't be the same as before. She wouldn't have to hide that she was a girl, or stay out of trouble. But with her father and brother around some freedoms were long gone.
She took in the familiarity of Brooklyn as they crossed the bridge. Sure, she'd gone there for the fight, but she hadn't even glanced at her surroundings that day, just let her feet take her to where she needed to be. Before that she hadn't been there in what seemed like forever; she could barely remember the last time she'd sold there. They passed several newsies still out selling. She wanted to wave to those she knew but pulled herself back into the carriage instead. How good would it feel to sell there again? Manhattan was wonderful, but this was Brooklyn; she'd spent most of her life there. She could feel her brother watching her and was sure he knew exactly what she was thinking.
The carriage pulled up in front of her father's house. For the past five years it had been a house of protection when she looked at it. They all hid there from the bulls from time to time. Now it had the same eerily intimidating demeanor as Pulitzer's mansion. It's full expression on wealth and power seemed to roll over her like a wave.
"It took you long enough to get here." Her father joked as they entered.
Seeing his smiling face made all Hotshots nervousness and minuscule fears dissolved.
"We woulda been back sooner but Miss Popularity ova here had ta say goodbye to every newsie in the city 'fore we left." Andres made fun of her.
"Oh, really, an' you jus' had ta tell Spot that story," she let herself stay in street dialogue seeing her father didn't lecture her brother about it. Her mother had been highly troubled by their use of street slang. "It's good to see you again." She hugged her father.
It was less than an hour later that the three of them sat down to dinner. Their father had yet to hire anyone to work and probably wouldn't considering he liked to do things himself. He brought out a small dinner. As they ate they discussed the next night's guests. Her father listed off business associates whose children were coming. "What about the newsies you invited?"
"Well there are a lot of them. They'll probably outnumber-"
"I figured."
"Well for girls there's Hummingbird and her friends. I really can't stand them but Spot invited them. Then there's these girls Sarah Jacobs introduced me to and Sarah."
"Aren't you inviting some of the gentlemen too?"
"Let's see, there's Spot and Brooklyn. They know their way around the house really well and I trust most of 'em with me life. The guys I lodged with in Manhattan are coming. They're really good guys. You know Dutchy…"
"Alex, yes."
"They're all just as good as he is. The little kids you have to watch, but the older boys, well except Race, are very well behaved."
Her brother coughed into his napkin.
"Isn't there a certain one of these boys, Specs I believe?"
"Andres!" she turned to her brother for telling.
"What!?" he asked innocently.
"Well Brooke?"
"We were together and broke up 'fore the trial. He's me best friend an' I dunno, we thought about getting back together." She suddenly looked up, "What am I wearing?"
Her father smiled secretively and her brother returned the look, "I believe Miss Valdez and Miss Larkson are arranging that. Don't worry though. Go have fun tomorrow and be back here by one. The party starts at six."
"Alright," Andres nodded, "Fun in Brooklyn!"
With a glance Hotshot nodded in agreement. So much trouble to get into. She played what seemed like endless card games with her father and brother after dinner, all the while thinking about her friends.
The next morning she was out the door before her brother was even awake. The Brooklyn boys were surprised to see her standing at the gates when they arrived. Most looked so bleary eyed that she couldn't help but comment, "You betta get back ta getting' up 'fore Spot comes back. Trust me, swimmin' in the harbor ain't fun."
"Mornin' Leary." She greeted the Brooklyn distributor. As she carried her papers out the gates Scorpion caught up with her.
"So you got some ladies coming tonight?" he asked.
"Always." She mumbled glancing down at the headlines and scanning multiple articles. "Jail overrun by prisoners! Several escapes!" Her yelling told about three boys who escaped from the refuge.
The hundred papers were sold by noon and she met the boys at a local pub. Grabbing a quick sandwich she chatted with the ones she hadn't seen in the past few months. By the time she reached home she was almost fifteen minutes late.
Her father scolded her as she came into the living room. Medda and Rosa were both seated in chairs, smiling. Hotshot just shrugged off the comment and went upstairs to take a shower.
A/N: Another chapter done! I used my cool characters that sent me info for the boy's girlfriends. Two don't have guys and the one who picked Jack, well Sarah's there so… I need some more input. I need the dad to hook up with someone. Do you want it to be Medda or Rosa. Both are really cool and a part of the story but I dunno which one would be best. If you put it in your review it would be very helpful.
I'm just a few chapters from the end, which is exciting, but at the same rime scares me. I've been writing this story since April and it's almost over. But great news. My English teacher told my mom at parent teacher conferences that I was a great writer. It's great to hear it from you guys in your reviews but this guys been looking at this stuff for twenty years.
A few minutes ago I finished a very productive discussion with my sisters boyfriend. The title came from the drummer section of the marching band he was in a few years ago. KKPA Thanksgiving! They'd call it out and the color guard would yell back.
There are also some songs 'cause Brooke hasta sing one at the party. I want it to say that she wants to remember everything but it's coming to a change too.
'Nobody' by the Tony Rich Project
'Good Riddance' by Greenday
'Time after Time' by blaque
'Moment like this' by Kelly Clarkson
'(Love lives in) strange places' or 'Train on a track' by Kelly Rowland
Any other suggestions or votes would be greatly appreciated. I have a few friends who have read the stories and others who will listen to my short **cough not as long as reading it anyway cough** summary. Just help me out here 'cause I'm stuck.
Why do you hafta be seventeen to see 'Eight Mile' two years! Sorry, needed to vent. I would absolutely love reviews and if I get six of them you will see shout outs in the next chapter, at least, maybe some muses too. I haven't seen Lange, Splash or SaL in forever just to name a few.
Later.
~Hotshot~~~