A couple of days passed and Spot grew out of his grumpiness. He slept deeply without any interruption during those nights. The newspapers, though, still sucked and it was still a hard task to sell them. They were on the streets for a much longer time trying to get people to buy the papers, and coming up with better headlines was getting increasingly hard. Luckily, though, it was Friday and there was a show going on at night at Irving Hall in Manhattan.

Bolt walked through the doorway of the theater while scoping out a girl that was making her way in with her friends. "Oh, man..." he pointed to her subtly and tried to get Spot to look. She looked about their age with chocolate brown hair and a small figure. Bolt seemed very interested in "getting to know her".

Spot turned his head to the side and gave her the once over from behind. "Not bad," he nodded.

"Not bad at all!" Bolt continued. They walked further into the entrance and soon they were in the large vaudeville theater. It was practically filled to the brim with newsies in the balcony, at the tables on the floor, and generally socializing with each other. Mostly it was the Manhattan newsies, but there were still many from Brooklyn, Queens, and Harlem. These "parties" were held once or twice a month, and at them Medda, the owner and star of Irving Hall, would perform a few songs.

They went in and took a seat with a few other newsies at a table close to the stage.

"Pretty full tonight," Spot pointed out. "Bettah be some goils heah this time. Rememba da last party?"

"That was just a waste of a night," Bolt replied angrily and shortly.

The spotlight directed at the stage turned on brightly and a petite, red-haired woman with tight curly locks wearing a light blue, intricately sewn dress appeared on stage. The crowd began cheering and applauding wildly. Loud band music started to play and Medda broke out into a cheerful song while dancing lightly around the stage. The crowd whooped and hollered as she paraded around with a huge smile on her face.

Spot felt a soft hand on his shoulder quickly. Before he could turn around, a thin girl took a seat on his lap and planted a seductive kiss on his soft lips. Spot placed his arms firmly on her lower back and began kissing her for a good seven seconds.

"Hey...Ginger," he said slowly after parting. The girl's name came a few seconds afterward as he easily forgot it.

"Missed ya, Conlon," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her chest "conveniently" placed just below his chin.

Spot smiled devilishly as he felt Bolt's envious eyes on him. He always enjoyed Ginger's greetings; all five times he had seen her.

"Missed ya, too," he said without feeling. He brushed the curly blonde hair away from Ginger's face to give him more room to work with and started to kiss her again. Ginger wasn't too different from all the rest of the girls he had been with; they were usually slim, pretty, and looked almost the same. And they were all insanely easy. But it's not like that was a big deal to him. Ginger, though, was a little bit crazier and more fun. She had a wild side and it was probably why Spot kept her around for so long.

Spot's lips traveled slowly to the side of her neck as he gave her a hickey, which was a signature move of his. Ginger yelped excitedly and brought her face in front of his. He had a mischievous smirk on his face and his eyes became a fiery dark blue. She bit her lower lip and dove in for another kiss.

They were interrupted shortly after by the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly. At first, Spot thought it was Bolt and he got really upset and irritated. He didn't let it bother him, though, and he continued on with Ginger. Neither one of them looked back to see who it was, as they were completely involved with each other.

"Hey!" the voice said again, even louder.

"What da hell?!" Spot said, now frustrated. Ginger turner her head around, equally pissed off.

A girl sat at one of the chairs with her arms crossed firmly over her chest. The expression on her face looked really ticked off and she pursed her lips. Her soft, chestnut-colored hair reached just below her shoulders and laid loosely over them.

"Oh, sorry," Ginger told her. She pulled a chair close to Spot and took a seat in it, crossing her legs dangerously close to his. "This is my friend, Autumn."

Autumn gave a fake smile to Spot.

"Uh, hey," he said blankly. He turned to Ginger and cupped his hands behind her ears as they, once again, started to make out.

Autumn rolled her eyes and positioned her seat facing the stage so she could have more of a distraction from them.

"Hey," Bolt said to her, trying his best to be suave.

She looked at him and finally said shortly, "hey."

"You know, you have da most gorgeous eyes I'se eva seen." Bolt slowly scooted in closer to her, looking into her honey brown eyes with golden specks.

"Thanks," she said without feeling and without looking.

"And talk about dat ass..." he said, subtly pointing to her butt.

Autumn scoffed and gave him a quick slap on the cheek. She jumped up and marched away. Bolt rubbed his cheek.

"Ya really suck when it comes ta goils, man," Spot teased as Ginger kissed her way down his neck. She now straddled his waist on the chair, completely unaware that there were tons of people around them. But by now everyone was used to Spot bringing some sort of girl to the parties that they didn't make a scene.

Ginger popped up and looked behind her. "Where'd she go?"

Bolt shrugged carelessly and sat back to watch the show.

"Ah, shit," Ginger sighed. "Be right back." She got up from Spot and began to walk in the same direction her friend had stomped off in. Spot gave her bottom a little slap as she walked away. He sat up to the table and took a big gulp of his drink. Placing his hands behind his head he leaned back and sighed.

"Cocky little shit," Bolt joked. He was about the only person who was able to get away with saying that to him.

"Ain't my fault you'se get so unlucky."

Bolt rolled his eyes and sat back to watch Medda.

"Thinkin' 'bout callin' it off with..."

"Ginger," Bolt finished.

"Yeah. Gettin' a little tired."

"Do what ya gotta do." Bolt got up and pushed through the crowds of people in the other direction. He seemed particularly annoyed.

Spot smirked to himself and soon got to his feet to look for Ginger. He pushed back his hair from his eyes and thought over what he should say to her. Somehow he forgot what he said to the old girls; something like "it's been fun..." or "it's not working out..." or some kind of shit like that. As he was contemplating this, he ran right into his Manhattan ally and friend, Jack Kelly.

"Hey, Spot!" he greeted with a friendly smile.

"Heya, Jacky-boy," he said as they spit-shook. "How's it goin' dese days?"

"Can't complain." A girl in a white dress walked up to him with an annoying smile on her face. "Dis is Sarah."

Spot raised his hand to tip his hat, but it was near the floor somewhere by their table since Ginger had taken it off during their "conversation". Instead, he gave some sort of wave and a half-smile. Sarah beamed as she twinkled her fingers at him.

"Jack, we've got to meet David," she said in a pure and innocent voice.

"All right, I'll meet you dere in a sec." He gave her a peck on the cheek and she went on her way.

"Goin' soft, are ya, Cowboy?" Spot teased.

Jack smiled. "Least I'll have her more dan a week."

Spot gave him a swift punch to the arm but smirked proudly. "You'll pay fer dat later, Cowboy. See ya later." He continued on his way.

After nearly five minutes had passed and Spot hadn't found Ginger. He was starting to consider that she had found a new guy on the way, and that was not good at all. It wasn't the thought of someone else all over her, it was the fact that she had gotten away from him first. He couldn't let that slip out. The theater didn't have many places left to look, so Spot crept outside for last hope.

It was late evening now around eight o'clock and the sun was just starting to set on the late August sky. A few newsies were on the sidewalk smoking a cigarette or two. He walked to the side of the building and leaned his back against the wall. With a sigh he searched around his pockets for his own cigarettes. Looks like he was all out.

"Not all dat fond of you, but I hate bein' all out," Autumn appeared in front of him with a half-smoked cigarette in her hand, and she held it out for him.

Spot snatched it from her and finished it off. "Thanks," he said as he stamped it out on the ground. "You seen Ginger? She's lookin' for ya."

"And you're lookin' for her to get some more ass, am I right?" she snapped.

"What tha hell'd I do ta piss ya off?" he asked but didn't really care about the answer.

Autumn turned up her nose and made her way back into the theater. Spot pushed himself off the wall and walked up behind her. He wasn't exactly mad that she was acting so much better than him; it was more amusing to him. Just before the entrance to the door, Spot grabbed her arms from behind and trapped them in front of her while he stood behind.

"Aw, let's not get started on da wrong foot now!" he joked as she struggled to break free of his strong grip. "C'mon, we'se could be the best of friends!"

Autumn stopped kicking and moving around. Spot, believing he had won, loosened his grip a little. Autumn quickly brought her right arm in front of her and shot it behind her, punching him in the stomach. Caught off-guard, Spot let go and rubbed the place where he was struck. He was used to taking hits to the stomach and it didn't hurt, but he was more surprised.

"You're sick," Autumn insulted meanly in a low voice. She stalked off back into the theatre. Spot chuckled to himself and turned around to see a few people laughing in entertainment. He stood there for a moment as he watched Autumn shove through the crowds, and noticed he felt a tiny twinge in his stomach. Sometimes the things that went on outside were more interesting than the show itself.