Wow. The reviews are so nice...I love reviews. :: sigh:: Thank you so much! You have no idea how much they are appreciated!

Shout ins:

ShortAtntionSpaz: My first reviewer! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!!!!! I am calm now. I think I may have a role for Amanda. But I need her to wear a dress (and hate it). Is this okay? It's not very big but I think I know a good place for her. :) Let me know in your NEXT REVIEW...:: cough:: hint...:: cough:: hint. Hope you have a wonderful day. :) (oh yeah, and you have dibs on Dutchy. ;)

Cici: You darling, you've made my year! Thank you! Don't ask me where plot came from. Except that...Tanya has a lot of me in her. At least, the acting part. The scary director at the beginning is real. He was there when I went to audition for "Annie." One of my friends from a current production got the part of Annie but she's NOTHING like Grenada. She's so much fun and I'm so excited for her. Still, not making it to call backs is really tough cuz then you start second guessing everything and...I'm rambling, aren't I? (Winces) sorry! Anyway, thank you! I hope you like the next chapter. If you have any ideas on how to make it better, please let me know.

Sureshot Higgins: I'll have a part for Kristen. :) Yes, Max's voice...:: sigh:: I think I have one, too. Sometimes when an audition doesn't work out or I have a bad rehearsal or something, I try to imagine what he'd say. Kinda dumb but he's my Broadway role model so what can I say? "He's become the voice in my head. And I can't drown him out. And I don't WANT to drown him out." Lol, have you seen Two Weeks Notice? Hugh Grant's hysterical. Thank you so much for reviewing!

Dreamer: Thank you! I just love you all for reviewing! I love it when Racetrack slaps Skittery: What's da mattah wid you? Ya in the papes, ya famous. Ya famous, ya get anyting ya want. And THAT'S what's so great about New Yawk! Uh, yeah...(Dreamer backs away slowly) I'm normal, really! Thank you soooo much for reviewing!

Moonlight: Awww. I felt in the beginning like this plot wasn't so original. You know, with the whole going back in time thing. It came off better than I expected it to. Sometimes I write stuff and then I wonder where it came from since I wasn't even really thinking about writing that. I hope you guys like this chapter.

Raven: I am so honored you reviewed this! In fact, I recognize so many of you guys from these great stories I've been reading! Yell at me if I don't do a better job reviewing stuff, promise? Yes, casting calls are sweet. I believe I have a part for you BUT Jack and Sarah are still interested in each other for this fic. Please let me know if you still want me to write you in. I was gonna put you with Spot if I could. :)

snipah higgins: Racetrack...(drools)...the rest of the newsies (sighs) They're all so cool. There's just something about Racetrack tap dancing on the table. Just magic. I can't explain it any other way. I'm so glad you like the story! Let me know if there's anything I should add. :D

Kate Lawrence: Ya gotta spot in da story, goily. If you hate it, feel free to yell. (Looks around for headphones-aha...plugs in Lion King soundtrack) KL: HOW DARE YOU RUIN ME????? AND YOU CALL YOURSELF A NEWSIES FAN!!!! I'LL SOAK YA!!!!! ("Hakuna Matata, what a wonderful phrase..."-hums along) Oh, what were you saying, Katie? KL: (dangerous voice) I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You. Lol. Thank you forever for reviewing!

Shorty Carter: You know what? I like long chapters, too! This one's kinda long. Can't wait to hear what you think. I'm impatient to write about the newsies but I want to get there in order, if that makes sense. Anyways, it's so nice to meet so many Racetrack fans. Most of my friends don't get it. They think I'm crazy for like a Disney musical but hey, what do they know? Thank you so much for your review and the brownies. You're now my official brownie supplier. (Hugs Shorty)

Disclaimer: Walt Disney Studios own the Newsies film and characters.

The various actors own their private lives and their PR men own their publicity.

I own the Newsies DVD...thereby making the newsies my digital slaves. Just think, I have the power to make Max Casella tap dance on a table WHENEVER I WANT. Ha!

I also own Tanya. She's miiiiiiiiinne.



On we go...





Tanya started suddenly from her sleep. Her back ached. She decided that must have something to do with sleeping on the floor. Why was she sleeping on the floor again? Tanya sat up. Why was that huge desk in her bedroom? And who took down her Music Man poster? Sunshine streamed in through the curtains and the girl remembered.

She had gotten locked in the lodging house museum. Her mother must be freaked. She stood up and reached for the door knob. It turned and she threw the door open. It didn't make sense that everyone would just...leave her there but at least she was back in the land of the living. A man she had seen the night before was putting out the street lamp. "Or not..." Tanya was horrified. Was this a joke? Walking down the steps, she started across the street. Then stopping, she spun around and stared hard at the building-NEWSBOYS LODGING HOUSE-new and freshly painted and below it...no trace of the museum sign.

Tanya was suddenly afraid. Hugging herself, she slowly turned around and began to walk stiffly down the street as if afraid of disturbing a fragile dream. "Please let this be a dream and not a nightmare," she prayed silently.

The girl passed a bakery and halted to observe the reflection in the big window. Her short pleated skirt and dark blazer were still there. Her dark eyes and honey colored hair hadn't changed. "So, I must still be me," she assured herself.

A woman with a bustle and a child dressed in a sailor's suit brushed by and Tanya caught their curious eyes. She watched them hurry into the bakery and saw the mother lean over the counter to whisper to the baker's wife. The two women turned to stare at her through the thick glass pane.

She sighed, "I don't care how weird this is. I need some different clothes."

Tanya began walking again but found herself at further loss. "I have no money," she realized. "No identification, no home, no..." she sighed. "This is ridiculous." Considering for a moment, she pulled off her jacket and glanced up the street at the milliner's shop.

"Okay," the voice in her head began the pep talk, "It's an improv, Tanya. Sell it, girl, just sell it."

Her feet carried her into the store. She paused uncertainly before reaching the counter. A young woman in a high-necked gown looked up from her embroidery.

Tanya didn't hesitate longer. She spread the jacket across the counter.

The seamstress had stood up and now eyed the foreign-looking piece of clothing with reservation. "May I help you?" she asked finally, her blue eyes meeting Tanya's.

"You see this lovely jacket?" Tanya gestured towards the fabric.

The girl nodded helplessly.

"You've probably never seen anything like this designed for ladies, am I right?"

A head shake in the negative.

Tanya snorted, "Of course you haven't. It's the latest in Paris fashion just now. Every lady there has one."

"Oh?" the girl looked interested but unsure.

"Yes. I recently came home from a..."Tanya floundered for a moment, "A trip from abroad."

The milliner's eyes lit up, "Oh, really? Did you have many admirers? Were they very foreign?"

"Oh, my share, I suppose. Moderately foreign. I was in Paris, after all." Tanya appeared disdainful of an obviously "stupid" question.

"I would like to offer you this French tailored jacket in exchange for something more suitable for the New York climate."

The young lady seemed confused for a moment, "I don't understand."

"You will be the only dress shop in New York City to have such a very new and fashionable piece of clothing. Wouldn't it look excellent hanging in the window?" Tanya held it up in the dim light of the room, letting her hand run down its length as if to illustrate its fine quality and good taste.

"Well, I suppose it..."

"If you can fit up some sort of dress for me, I'll turn it over to you."

"Well, you see, the shop, my mother isn't, I don't..."

Tanya tapped her foot impatiently, "I haven't got all day! Do make up your mind before I'm forced to take it to the milliner's on 42nd!"

"But..."

"Good day, then." Tanya walked briskly towards the door, jacket in hand.

"Wait!" the girl's panicked voice cried out.

Tanya turned around with deliberate care and raised her eyebrows, "Yes?"

"I'll make up something for you. But we have to hurry before my mother gets back from the market."

Tanya nodded and allowed herself to be dragged to the back of the store where she was fitted for a dress more "suitable to the climate." All the while, the girl (whose name was Maggie) chattered on about Paris and fashion. Tanya let her.

"If this doesn't win me an Academy Award, I don't know what will," she mumbled.





Tanya was going crazy. She still wasn't sure where exactly she was and these stiff long skirts and lace were so heavy! And whoever invented the bustle was a blooming idiot. "You're playing a part," the voice in her head reminded. "Just play the part." Imitating the modest carriage of the women she passed, she tried to figure out exactly what had happened.

"I heard a noise. I ran down the stairs. The door was locked. I looked out the window and they were lighting the street lamps." A gentleman passing in the street gave her a strange look. Tanya ignored him and continued to mutter to herself, "Street lamps don't get lit anymore."

"Ooof!" she rammed into a man on the corner as he turned to cross the street. She heard a clink as a coin hit the ground. "Hey, uh sir, you dropped this!" the man didn't turn around or stop walking.

The girl gave up and still holding the coin, walked towards the square where the name "Horace Greeley" had caught her eye. Studying the statue, she remembered, "Oh, right, that was the guy who said 'Go west, dude' or something like that."

A group of young boys were right in the middle of a marble game and two men stood to the side of the statue, discussing something heatedly over a newspaper.

It hit her. She needed a glimpse of that newspaper. As casually as possible, Tanya made her way towards the bench beside the two gentlemen. Sitting down, she smoothed her skirt and turned her head demurely in their direction. She smothered a "crap!" in the back of her throat. Their paper was turned at such an angle as to cover the top half of the front page. Tanya craned her neck downward, trying all the while to look innocent and natural in that position.

She was close to giving up when a bold voice behind her started, "If yous so interested in thah headloine, why don'tchas buy a pape a yer own?"

Tanya turned her curly head to stare at a very familiar face. Her mouth formed a name but no sound issued from her lips.

"Just a penny and yous can read all about uh-," his dark eyes scanned the paper he was holding, "the horrific moidah of an innocent creatcha and uh the danguhrus escaped convict wanderin' the streets a Brooklyn." He glanced back up at her, replacing the cigar in his mouth. "Very entahtainin' readin' for a lovely lady like yaself."

Tanya swallowed hard.

The young man's hopeful grin faded.

"Somethin' the mattah, miss? Yous look pale."

"I'm fine," she blurted.

"Alright, then." He started to walk off, paper held high, "Brooklyn citizen dies in mysterious fiah!"

"Wait!" She ran after him.

"Yeah?" he turned around.

"Uh, here." The girl pushed the nickel into his wind-chapped hand.

"Well, I uh-ain't got change," he said slyly.

"Keep it."

Tanya yanked the paper from out of his fingers, her whole body shaking now.

"Ah yous shoa ya okay, lady? Cause ya don't look like it ta me."

"Where's the date on this paper?" she asked frantically.

"Right dere," he said, pointing it out and then looking up to watch her face.

Tanya felt her heart begin to thud in her ears...Tuesday, May 20, 1900.

She looked up to see the newsie still standing there, a bewildered look in his eyes.

"Race, ya comin'?" a voice called from across the square.

"Thank you," she said.

"Yeah," he backed up slowly, not taking his eyes from her face, "Shoa thing." He turned around and walked off, shaking his head slightly.

Tanya felt like she was suddenly suffocating and she quit holding her breath.

"This isn't happening. This isn't even...possible! Is it?" Looking around her at the busy streets absent of taxis, electric lights, and billboards, she nodded her head. There was a sob in her voice as she whispered, "It is."



A/N: Well, there 'tis. The second chapter! Whew!



Legs comments on:

David Jacobs- he's so nice. And polite. And gentlemanly. I love his scene with Jack after he rescues him from Snyder and Pulitzer.

"Ya shouldn'ta done dat, Dave. They could put you in jail."

"I don't care."

"And what about ya family? What happens ta them if ya go to jail? Ya don't know nothin' about jail! Now I appreciate what yous done but you gotta get outta here."

"I don't understand!"

"I don't understand either but just get out of here!"

And very cute on top of that. I know he likes gray better than blue but blue goes great with those eyes. Did you know David Moscow was only 15 when he made that movie? Aww...great voice, too.

Let's face it: the entire newsies cast was brilliant.