Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Newsies.

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Death to Spottie

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Chapter Three

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Madison Square

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Two hours and twenty-four minutes before Racetrack killed the thorn in Higgins Senior's side, Spot and his girlfriend were in a club because Spot liked to get drunk. His girlfriend didn't like it very much, but who was she to argue with when he confessed his love to her very loudly after climbing on top of the bar?
One hour and forty-eight minutes before and everything has gotten very blurry so that when Spot sees Jack and he holds onto his shoulder and says, "Meet my girlfriend," he doesn't notice how Jack and his girl's eyes linger on each other appreciatively.
"I'm Sarah," his girlfriend says, "Sarah Jacobs."
Cowboy holds out his hand and says, "Jack Kelly," and when they shake he holds her hand a little bit too long. But, of course, Spot is very drunk and wouldn't be able to piece together what was going on, anyway. They were all quite tipsy, after all.
One hour and twelve minutes before and curiously Jack and Sarah are gone. Later Jack and Sarah will claim a momentary lack of reason; one that lasted a good five days. Spot's worried in a way those who are drunk can be—he's not.
Fifty nine minutes before and Spot was not having so much fun anymore. The haziness was annoying; he could barely distinguish one face from another. The music that once swept over him, pulsing and refreshing, now throbbed and pushed at his temples.
Thirty-two minutes before and Spot wanted to leave. He stumbled around the dark room, searching in earnest for Sarah. She was probably not as inebriated as he, and therefore could drive safely home, or maybe they could walk. Fresh air sounded heavenly right about now. He pulled at the collar of his shirt, sticky with sweat.
Seventeen minutes before and Sarah and Jack were kissing in the back corner when Spot happened upon them.
"What the fuck?"
Jack and Sarah both sprung apart like they were electrocuted.
The standard, "It's not what it looks like!" followed by innocent looks and hot cheeks.
To which Spot slurred, "Of course not. But it's what it is!"
Five minutes before and Spot is outside. The fresh air isn't so refreshing and smells of cigarettes and exhaust fumes and piss and his head still hurts. He feels something lurch in his stomach, like his insides are being rearranged. He falls into the alley between the two clubs just when a gunshot sounds from further down. When he looks up he thinks he sees a man and a gun but everything is growing darker so he can't trust what he sees.
He stumbles out again and retches on the sidewalk; the people who sees scurry out of his way and give him resentful looks. A few more steps down he has fainted.
In the morning he won't remember anything.

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End Chapter Three

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[A/N]: Sorry for the extremely long break with this fic. I tell you, there should be a class for procrastinators that instructs them in the art of speeding up. That would help me a lot, with turning in homework, and projects, and writing, and practicing, and running…

I feel bad. Every time I write Spot in his fic he's either drunk or hung-over or caffeine-deprived. And Sarah is always a cheating bitch in my stories. Hm…I feel bad for that, too, because she really isn't that bad.

THANX TO REVIEWERS:

parkranger: Yay! I revealed the brunette in the picture! It only took me about three months. Haha. Sorry for the long wait and short chapter. Yes, Racetrack ditching the scene was NOT cool, but a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do. You know?

Strawberri Shake: I love Spot, 'nuff said. Thanx for the review!!! Much love.

Sapphy: Spot is very disgruntled right now because you threw yourself at him. He gets enough of that randomly on the streets, you know? But secretly he loves it. Don't you, Spot? [no response] DON'T YOU, SPOT? [MS fwaps him on the back of his head]
Spot: Of COURSE. I don't know how I could ever live without the scary stalker bitches…
MS: HEY!
Spot: I mean, lovely ladies such as yourselves.
MS: By the way, Sapphy, I'd love for you to put this fic up on your website. What an honor! Thanx for the review!

uninvisible: People who are easily amused lead fascinating lives. I'm serious. ::accepts the virtual twenty so she can buy some virtual martinis with her virtual fake ID:: THANK YOU! Hehe.

SpotLover421: Thanx for the review! Oh, you'll find out what's gonna happen with Race and Spot, don't worry. I haven't abandoned this fic, just too lazy to do anything with it for the moment. Meep.

PLEASE REVIEW! THANK YOU MUCH!