Disclaimer: You know the drill. Newsies belongs toDisney; Into the Woods belongs to Stephen Sondheim; OC'stheir creators; Zodiac, Quills, Robbie, and Benny belong me!

A/N: I forgot to mention something in the last chapter. This story is dedicated to Ashley Generose, my stage manager of two years. Thank you for putting up with all the shit you were forced to put up with! And just remember: What goes around, comes around! Stage manager is GOD!

I watched as the minute hand finally reached the six. With the hour hand already resting on the three, this obviously meant it was 3:30. Meaning it was time for the first rehearsal to begin.

So why were we missing seven cast members?

Sighing, I waited patiently for the stragglers to arrive before finally grabbing the cast list from Ershey. "Does anyone know where Sarah, Benny, Kyriel, Shooter, and Jack are?" My question was met only with blank stares. I glanced back at the clock.

3:35.

"I think Jack said he had to make-up a test after school," a voice rang out from the back of the classroom. Yes, I said classroom. Not auditorium.

I removed my glasses and massaged my temples. I was pretty sure a headache was getting ready to hit. "Do you know how long it's going to take?"

Pie Eater, our Steward in the show, as well as the source of the current information, shrugged. "Not really. It's the physics test."

Oh, the physics test. The one that was about ten pages long. Yeah, we probably wouldn't be seeing Rapunzel's Prince for a while. Still, it was good to know he at least had an excuse, even though he couldn't have told me this. That still didn't explain our other no-shows. However, before I began to get really angry, four people hurried into the room.

Well, really three hurried in. One just walked in leisurely at his own pace.

"It is now," I began, glancing at the clock, "3:38. That's eight minutes of my time, as well as your fellow cast members' time, you have wasted by being late. Because this is the first rehearsal, I'm not going to penalize any of you. Next time, and this goes for everyone in the show, I will record how late you were and you will owe me that time back. The best way to assure you will be here on time is by being here early."

"Well, you could just start without us," a voice interrupted. "I mean, we'll be here eventually."

Benny Fouche. Athlete extraordinaire. Never one to have a least bit of interest in the performing arts. That is, until now. And how could we refuse? We needed as many boys as we could get. Plus, his father just bought the school twelve new computers. So, like Sarah, we had no choice. I had to give him the role of the Baker.

Not that he is a bad actor or singer, mind you. He's not great, but he could be worse. However, he seems to always have an attitude problem and doesn't enjoy being told what to do. I assume being told what to do by a "fag" hurts his pride even more.

How did I know he wasn't going to make this easy?

"Yes, we can start without you. However, I would prefer we didn't. I have a lot of notes to give out and I don't like to repeat myself if I can help it. Now, I have to talk to you all about a few things. First, I–"

"Hey! Sparrow, Jack and Alaska aren't here! You're starting without them."

I gripped the side of the desk tightly. I knew he was trying my patience. "They have an excuse. They informed me before that they would be late for the rehearsal. Which brings me to what I was saying," I continued, with a glare in the direction of a certain individual. "I need everyone's final conflict sheets by Thursday. Just put down any other activities you may be involved with, what days they are on, and the time they begin and time they end. Give it to either Ershey or me. That way, we can make a rehearsal schedule that is as flexible as possible.

"Now, as you all should know, for the next two months we will be holding rehearsals. Today, I will be handing out scripts and scores. I would like to read through as much as we possibly can today and tomorrow. By Thursday, I would like to start blocking and–"

"What's blocking mean?"

"It means actually staging the show. Telling you what to do at certain points in the show. And Benny, could you please raise your hand next time?" I took a breath to calm myself. It didn't help, but then again it rarely does. "Also, I want to start teaching songs. Robbie, who is going to play piano for the show, will be coming in sometime this week to start. Soon, more of the musicians for the show will also be attending rehearsals. Some of you may be off learning a song while others are on stage doing blocking. Others will be running lines. Some of you will not have to come to every rehearsal, especially not Kyriel, Nova, and Fantasy. Your characters appear only in the second act. So, today we're going to read through the script. If you come across a song, just try to read the lyrics for now. Any questions?"

"Aren't we supposed to have a teacher with us? Where is Ms. Larkson? Are we going to get in trouble if they find us in here without a teacher?" asked a somewhat nervous Fantasy, who would be the voice of the Giant in addition to working the sound effects for the show.

"Technically, yes. We are supposed to have a teacher in the classroom with us. However, Medda isn't going to be able to make it at all this week. I couldn't postpone rehearsals for that long. Besides, most of the faculty members who actually care about that kind of stuff are either gone or too busy to come around and check," I explained to calm her nerves. "Medda told me if anything does happen, she'll take full responsibility." Not to mention the fact that we have the principal's son and daughter in the show, which does provide a certain type of immunity. "Are there any other questions?"

A hand rose "Why aren't we in the auditorium? I mean, isn't that why it was built in the first place? For the drama club to perform its productions?" asked Soaker, our show's Lucinda.

I smiled grimly. "Yes, that is precisely why it was built," I replied. I could remember attending Hannan as a freshman, upset to find that the drama productions were performed in the cafeteria. On a stage which the drama club had to build and take down for each show. With three shows a year, that's a lot of work. Which is why I was relieved that by the end of my junior year, the Fine Arts building (which was supposed to have been built about five years prior) was finally up and ready. Unfortunately, I couldn't celebrate so quickly. "The school has decided we may not use it for rehearsals, or even performances, unless we have a proposal and present it before Administrative Council. We have to agree to abide by all of their rules. See, they're afraid we might mess up their building by rehearsing there."

"So do they have the basketball team submit a proposal before using the gym to practice and for games?" asked Zodiac, who played Little Red Riding Hood sarcastically. "I mean, after all, they might mess it up."

A few murmurs of laughter followed the comment. Not that I could blame her for being angry. She had waited just as long as I had for the Goddamn building to be built. To now be told we couldn't use it was basically a slap in the face.

"Hey, he has good reason to think it might happen," Sarah cried out. Crap. I momentarily forgot her father was the principal. "I mean, the school spent good money on that building. They don't want it ruined!"

"They spent a lot of money on the gym also," Ershey jumped in, "and they do more in there than we do in the auditorium. They spent a lot to build the whole fucking school. They don't expect us to create a proposal before walking the halls, do they? Besides, most of the money that went into building came from donations. Donations from our parents. I'm sure they donated that money so we would be able to rehearse and perform in a real auditorium."

"So, how about we start?" I stepped in before the inevitable fight broke out. And Sarah could inevitably go crying to daddy. And we could inevitably be forced to do our show in the janitor's closet.

All words spoken were set aside, but not forgotten. There was no mistaking the looks Sarah and Ershey were giving each other. However, as long as it remained at that, I was pretty sure we would be fine.

And so our first rehearsal and finally begun. Amazingly, it was going pretty smoothly. Of course, the entire first section is one long musical number with dialogue inserted in between. And the musical number was filled with characters overlapping each other in song. Still, most of the cast seemed to catch on quickly.

Honestly, I think the first problem came during "Hello, Little Girl." Skittery, who was playing duel roles as both the Wolf and Cinderella's Prince, was just starting the song, when I saw the hand go up.

I wanted to ignore it. Pretend I hadn't seen it. But, I knew if I didn't answer the question, he would just blurt it out eventually. "What is it, Benny?"

"Well, I was just looking through the script."

"And . . . ?"

"Well, there's a lot of singing in the show."

I stared blankly at him. "Ok, I follow you so far."

"Well, I was just thinking. I mean, that's kind of stupid. Why do they have to sing every three minutes?"

I wanted to bang my head against the desk. Better yet: bang his head against the desk.

"Hey genius! It's called a musical. The word music is actually part of its name," Sapphy, our Cinderella, muttered. "Dumbass."

"Hey shut up!" he hissed at her. Turning back to me, he continued. "I mean, who can relate to this? Who just randomly breaks into song while just walking through town?"

In response to this rhetorical question, about 17 hands went up, my own included.

Rolling his eyes, Benny further clarified. "What normal person does that?" The hands all slowly lowered. "See? No one is going to want to come see a bunch of people sing about every little thing happening in their lives."

"Well, apparently some people did want to see it. It ran for 764 performances," Granny, who, ironically enough, was playing Granny, interjected.

"Also, it won three Tony Awards," added Mayfly, our Baker's Wife. "They don't hand those babies out to just anyone."

"Don't forget about the five Drama Desk Awards," Snoddy, who played Cinderella's Father, commented.

"And the New York Drama Critics Circle Award for Best Musical," Shooter, our Florinda, reminded.

"Ok! I get the point!" Benny shouted. "But no one really cares about all those awards. I mean, did it ever win a Grammy?"

"Actually," David, who was our Narrator said, "it did. It won for Best Original Cast Show Album."

I looked at Benny smugly, expecting to see defeat. He doesn't give up easily, though.

"Look, I'm just saying that I think the students in this school would be more likely to come see the show if it were a bit more modern."

"And what exactly did you have in mind?" I asked. Or did I even want to know?

"Well, how about if we rapped it?"

"What?" I know I had to have heard wrong.

"Rap. I mean guys freestyle all the time. It's not uncommon. What's the big deal?" he asked seeing the dumbfounded stares of almost every person in the room.

Swifty, who played The Mysterious Man was the first to speak. "You want us to take the brilliant work of Stephen Sondheim and 'Snoop Dogg' it?"

"What's wrong with rap?"

"What's wrong with rap?" asked Sparrow, our Jack's Mother, who was just coming in. Jack and Alaska, who was the Witch followed closely behind. "You mean other than being the lowest form of music known to the human race? Why are we on this subject anyway?"

Nova, who had been cast as Sleeping Beauty, answered, "Benny thinks we should do a rap version of Into the Woods."

Alaska's jaw practically dropped to the ground. "What on earth would give you the notion that that is a good idea?"

"Jeez! It was just a suggestion! No need to attack me!"

"Well, why don't you just keep such 'brilliant' suggestions to yourself for the time being?" our Snow White, Kyriel, offered.

Glancing at the clock, I could see it was already a little past 4:30. We needed to do as much as humanly possible tonight. Clearing my throat, I vied for everyone's attention. "Could we please continue?"

The tension was still in the air, but everyone cooperated. Finding the place where we had left off, we continued. I prayed we would have no more outbursts.

One of these days, I'm going to become an atheist.

"We skipped a song," Sarah said. "It says the Witch and Rapunzel are supposed to sing a song called "Our Little World." We skipped it."

"Sarah, the song is optional. We are choosing not to do it."

"That's not fair, though. Suppose Alaska or me wants to have it in the show?"

"I really don't care," Alaska put in from her place leaning sleepily against Skittery.

"Well I do!" Sarah pouted.

"Look," Kathleen, who was Cinderella's Stepmother, interrupted, "Specs already said it's out. He's the final word on everything."

"Shut your mouth, Slut!" Sarah retorted. Kathleen was commonly called such names. After all, her history with the guys was certainly no secret. She didn't seem to be shamed by the nicknames given to her. In fact, I'd be lying if I said I didn't sense the tiniest bit of pride in it. Of course, it's she takes pride in a lot of her unique characteristics. "He is not the final word on everything." Sarah continued.

I had to think up a lie. Quick. Luckily, bullshitting is one of my talents. "Sarah, they didn't even have it in the original production on Broadway for a couple of reasons. First, the play is already very long. If we add this song, we may extend our intended time limit. Also, the music is the hardest piece in the whole show. Even experts have trouble playing it." Considering her knowledge of music, or lack thereof, I was fairly sure she had no idea that I had just pulled that excuse out of my ass.

"Oh," was her only reply. That single "oh" was unsettling, however. I was positive I could practically see the wheels turning inside her head.

"Now, can we please try to get through more without any stops?" I pleaded.

It was a little after six o'clock when we had finally finished. Rehearsal had been scheduled to end at six-thirty, but I figured it couldn't hurt to let them out a little early this one time. Besides, I feared what may happen if I had to keep them all in this small room for more time than necessary.

"Before you go, I do need to talk to you about costumes. I want each of you to see me when you can. I have a sheet for everyone which lists what your costume should consist of. Ink will be trying to scrounge up some things, but most of it will be up to you to get. I suggest you try looking in Goodwill or Volunteers of America."

"That's gross! You want us to wear clothes that have already been worn? You don't know what people could have done in that," a shocked and disgusted Sarah stated.

"You know, when you buy something from the mall, there have been people who tried that same outfit on before you," interjected Irish, who played Cinderella's Mother. "You never know. Someone could buy something, wear it, and then return it the next day. The difference it, when you bring something to Goodwill, they wash it before putting it on the racks. I doubt stores in the mall are that thoughtful."

"Look, Sarah," I interrupted, in an effort to prevent yet another argument, "I was just making a suggestion. If you want to go out and buy something expensive so that you can wear it in four performances, that's your business. Like Irish said, though. There is no shame in buying things from Goodwill." I thought about some of the cool things I had gotten from Goodwill. Things you couldn't find anywhere else.

Everyone's nerves were shot. I could tell. I needed to hurry up before someone did something drastic. That someone most likely meaning me. "Ink will also try to have make-up schemes and hair styles for everyone. Most of the guys won't need to wear a lot of make-up. Oh, and Blink! You're going to need to remove the patch. I just don't think it fits the character of Jack."

I heard whispering all around from that last comment. A few of the younger cast members turned and looked to see Blink's reaction. See, most people seem to be under the impression that Blink's eye patch was a permanent article of clothing for him. I knew some rumors had even begun to circulate about his reasons for wearing it. Most of them ridiculous. Some humorous. All completely false.

How do I know? Because I grew up next door to him. When he was in eighth-grade, a blood vessel in his left eye popped. I don't know all the details, nor do I really want to. While recovering, he wore a patch. This seemed to attract a good percentage of the female population at his school. Something about a "wounded" man seems to be attractive to girls. I guess it's their instinct to want to take care of someone. Whatever the reason, it came as a sudden surprise to Blink. After his initial shock, he decided to wear a patch more often. That escalated to wearing it basically all of the time. How he convinced his parents and the school to let him do this is beyond me. He's the kind of kid who could get away with murder. Apparently, though, his idea seemed to work wonderfully. He's been with Mayfly since the end of his freshmen year.

Blink just smirked and removed the aforementioned article of clothing. I'm pretty sure I heard a few gasps. "Is this better?" he asked cheekily.

I had to smile. "Yes, much better."

6:20

So with ten minutes left to go, I set the cast free. I reminded them that we had rehearsal again the following day, same time, same place. Though, I think the reminder fell upon deaf ears.

"Specs, what time do I need to be here tomorrow morning to present the proposals with you?" asked Ershey, gathering her things to leave as well.

"I don't think they are actually meeting until about 7:30, so just anytime before then."

She nodded. "Specs?"

"Yeah?"

"Get some sleep."

As I walked out of the school building, I heard a car honking behind me. I turned to see a car pull up beside me. The window rolled down to reveal Dutchy.

"Dutchy, what are you doing here?"

"Giving you a ride home. Your car is still in the shop."

"I can call my mom for a ride."

"Specs, I'm already here."

"Yeah, but if you give me a ride home, you'd be going out fo your way. You live far in the other direction, remember?"

"Specs, just get in the damn car!"

I love when he's forceful like that.

I slipped in and leaned back, resting as he peeled out of the parking lot.

"Rough rehearsal?" he asked.

"Hm."

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Hm."

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Hm."

He sighed. "I hope you're not overdoing it."

"I'm not. I'm fine."

The rest of the ride was in silence. Which was probably all for the better. It allowed me to have a good fifteen minute rest. The sad thing is, I think it was the best sleep I'd had all week.

As we pulled up to my house, I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks for the ride."

"Hey, you should probably go to bed early tonight. You look like you could use it."

Bed? Ha! That was the last thing on my mind. Well, maybe not the last, but it was pretty far down on the list. Somewhere between eating and writing the English essay that was due in two days.

I didn't want to worry Dutchy anymore than he already was. So I smiled and nodded like a good little boyfriend.

I really wasn't that stressed out, honestly. I had crossed yet another thing off of my To-Do List, I was about to cross off a couple more, and I still hadn't had a mental breakdown yet.

The keyword there is yet.

Yay! Another chapter is complete. I'm on a roll with this thing! Just hope I don't jinx it. Because you have read this chapter I will now recite a poem written especially for you:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

You rock my world

And reviews kick ass too!

So what do you think of my loverly poem? Yeah I know, don't quit my day job. Not that I actually have a day job...

NOTE: As Specs said in this chapter, I need all characters who are part of the cast, as well as any of the musicians, to turn in a list of other activities your character may be involved in. This includes clubs or sports within school, activities outside of school (dancing, voice lessons, etc) and if your character has a job. If you'd like to include days and times for all of the activities, that'd be great. If not, that's ok too.

And that about wraps that up! Ciao!