A frightened boy ran down the streets of Brooklyn, his slingshot in one hand, golden-topped cane in the other. His footsteps pounded up and down the lanes, as he made his way quickly to the Bridge and to Manhattan.

As he stopped to rest and catch his breath, leaning against the wall of a building, he was unaware of one of his Newsies, Tony, walking up to him with an almost scared look on his face.

"Spot?" He asked, making the 'fearless' leader jump about three feet into the air. "What are you--"

"NO!" Spot shouted, clasping his hands over his ears. "If I can't hear you, I don't have to answer truthfully!" he stumbled past Tony, who was beyond confused, and started running yet again to the bridge.

He had to reach Jack, before anybody else came and talked to him, Then he had to find Afton.

Speak of luck. Unless there was something wrong with his eyes as well as his ability to lie that day, Jack was only about 50 feet in front of him. He slowed to a jog, sweat beads pouring down his neck, and reached Jack, running into the unsuspecting boy and almost knocking them both over.

"Jack." he breathed heavily, catching his breath. "Jack, somethin's wrong,"

Jack looked at him, only mildly concerned. "What is it?" he more sighed than asked. Spot noticed his swollen eyes and the way his eyelashes sort of stuck together, the way Afton's did when she cried, but chose to ignore that. His problem was definitely more important then whatever Jack was dealing with.

"I.I," he paused, a realization dawning on him. "It's your fault!" he finally shouted, pointing an accusing finger. "You did this to me, didn't you?"

"Did what?" Jack asked, only slightly interested in what Spot had to say.

"Don't play innocent wit' me!" Spot snapped. "I went to Manhattan, to get me hat back from last week, and when I left.well all the sudden I'm havin' trouble lyin'!" He finished triumphantly.

Much to his surprise, and annoyance, Jack started to laugh. "This isn't funny!" Spot shouted angrily, raising a threatening fist at Jack.

"It kind of is," Jack said honestly, holding up his hands in defense. "Look, the thing is Spot.well, you'se gonna think this crazy..but earlier today, while you were in the Lodging House, I guess.Davey found this old book in the attic.and he kinda, sorta cast a spell."

"A spell." Spot repeated incredulously.

"A Truth Spell," Jack corrected.

Spot shook his head, disbelieving. "How can you cast a spell?" he spat out. "I thought all the 'witchy' stuff was killed in Salem.you know, with them Puritans and such,"

"Yeah, I don't really get it either.but it worked," Jack said. "I mean.I just found out Pulitzer's me uncle,"

Spot's eyes grew wide. "Are you sure dis ain't some sort of insanity spell?"

"What's yer real name," Jack asked, to prove his point.

"Spot is it. Me dad got drunk real bad and kept sayin' how he'd see spots all over the place. When they asked him what to name me, he said the only thing he could think of was Spot, and he said that must have meant God wanted him to call me that." Spot suddenly got really pale. "I can't believe I just tol' you that! It's like I got no will of me own." his thoughts drifted back to Afton. "This is a mess! You gotta help me fix this!"

"What happened to you, anyway?" Jack asked in response.

Spot sighed. "You know that goil I'se been seein'?" he asked. "The real pretty one,"

"Yeah, yeah the one who doesn't have a single flaw on her. She's pretty gorgeous," Jack admitted.

"Yeah, no kiddin'. So for the past couple 'a weeks, I'se been tellin' her I love 'er, you know, hopin' to get some action out of her, she's not really that affectionate, ya know what I mean," he took a deep breath.

"So today, I went to meet 'er after I got back from Manhattan, she was standin' there, like she always does, and god! She was so beautiful! But she looked a little upset, and she tol' me she ran into one of her old boyfriends, who used to treat her like dirt. Then I tol' 'er, 'Well I love you, that's all that matters,' and she asked me, "do you really?' and..well, I couldn't lie! I said no, and told her I just wanted to sleep with her. And I mean, she kept asking me all these things that I always say to 'er.and I couldn't lie!" he shook his head mournfully. "What'd ya think of that, eh?"

Jack folded his arms across his chest. "I don't think you wanna know what I think of that,"

Spot gave him a funny look. "Why not?"

"'Cause I think you're a very manipulative, selfish and immature boy who needs to grow up before you should be even allowed to talk to girls. Honestly, the way you treated her! I'm glad she left ya!"

Spot took a fuming step towards Jack, but he again help up his hands in defense. "Look, I wouldn't be saying none of this to yer face if not for the truth spell. So jus' forget I said it, alrigh'?"

Spot reluctantly nodded. "You gotta help me fix this, Jack," he pleaded. "I mean, even if I don' love 'er, I still wanna be with her,"

Jack sighed again. "There's no way to fix it." He said. "There's a twenty- four hour time limit, then nobody will remember anything.well, except us four."

"Four?"

"Me, you, Race, and David. Supposedly everyone else who've we've talked to just..forgets what we said, I guess,"

Spot let out a frustrated sigh. "So Afton won't remember by tomorrow?" he asked.

"Nope." Jack looked around the bridge. "Hey, look, it's getting' dark. Why dontcha crash in Manhattan for the night, nobody'll ask ya nothin,'"

Spot nodded. "I think I will," he said, and they took off towards Manhattan. Somewhere along the way, he got the nerve to ask, "So wha' happened to you?"

Jack shrugged. "Found out Pulitzah's the reason me mum's dead, he's my uncle..nothin' too bad" he added with a sarcastic undertone.

Spot raised one eyebrow and then shrugged. "At least yer goil didn't run away from ya,"

"I don't have a girl," Jack snapped.

"Ya know, I don't really like ya when you'se act crabby," Spot said bluntly.

"You know, I don't really like you at all," Jack replied nastily.

They stopped walking and stared at each other, Jack looking a little afraid and Spot angry.

"Maybe.maybe we shouldn't talk to each other," Jack finally said.

Spot shrugged. "It's not like I ever want to talk to you'se anyway,"

"You are SO immature!" Jack erupted. "Everything has to be about you, doesn't it?!"

"Yes it does!" Spot replied. "I am Spot Conlon, the most respected and famous newsie in alla New York!"

"That doesn't mean a thing to me! You're the same old Spot I rescued from the Bronx eight years ago!" Jack snapped so angrily that little pieces of spit flew everywhere.

Spot went a strange combination of white and red. "You didn't tell anyone?" he asked in a half-whisper.

"Of course I didn't," Jack said haughtily. "Unlike some people, I can be trusted,"

Spot kept his mouth shut, there wasn't much to say to that. "Thanks for not telling," he finally muttered, keeping his eyes on his feet.

Jack gasped. "What the--" was his only reply, as they reached the LH. People, mostly Italian men, were all over the place. Mostly they were talking, excitedly, but some of them were moving things into the street. There was now an big chair, desk, and a sofa in the middle of the street.

"What is this?" Jack asked, bewildered, as they walked past the men. A few newsies were scattered here and there, and in the middle of all of them, was a short, dark-haired and well-dressed young man Jack didn't recognize.

"RACETRACK?" Spot's mouth dropped open. Jack let out another gasp as the man, holding a golden watch and a cigar spun around to look at them.

"That's Prince Racetrack to you, Spot!" Mush said from Race's right. "Nah, nah, boys, de're all right," Race took the cigar out of his mouth. "Well, Jack, I gotta hand it to ya, dis stuff really works. I mean, sure, the truth stuff, it made me realize I was a prince. But thanks to the book-- " he pointed to it, laying shut on the chair, "I'se been castin' spells left and right, and, well look at me now!" he laughed and leaned closer. "Finest fabric you'll find in New York," he said, fingering his pinstripe suit.

Jack looked ready to kill. "You cast more spells and you brought the book out here?" he hissed at Race, grabbing him by the collar. "Do you have any idea-"

"Get your hands off of the Prince!" one of the Italian men shouted, grabbing Jack and tossing him like he weighed no more than a twig. He hit the side of the wall and fell to the ground, moaning.

"Jack?" Race asked, his eyes wide. "Stupid Leo, you don't throw my friends!" the man shrunk away, looking like a kicked dog.

Race ran over to see if Jack was alright. Spot started to follow, but he saw something that made him stop.

There, in the midst of the crazy Italians and newsies, was Afton. But she wasn't alone. David was next to her. They were holding hands, and she was actually.laughing?

Spot quickly walked over to them, wanting an explanation. "Afton?" he asked, dumbfounded.

She turned to him and gave him a very, very cold look. Taking her hand from David, she made a point of taking off the silver bracelet Spot once gave to her. Holding it out to him, she said to the words that no other girl in his life had said to him.

"I think it's pretty clear that we're over."

And, in the middle of the day, Brooklyn's arrogant, fearless, rude and childish leader felt like he had been stabbed in the heart, and he fainted, crumpling into a heap on the ground.

Thing's were or were not looking so good, depending on whose side you were on.

***

And there ya have it. Next chapter up soon, if I get reviews. Otherwise..forget it! J/k so yeah. Sorry I was so mean to spot.I don't know why. Maybe ill be nice to him sometime in the near future..who knows. Ciao!