The next morning, after a bad selling day, the newsies were up and ready again. There was a difference, however, not in Jack, but in the population. No, nobody died, but Kloppman had left to go visit his niece. This news aroused the mischievous side in Grip, whose attitude spread faster than a cold.

"I'm goin' over to the Bronx tonight…I wanna go see my cousin…" Shay announced.

"Cousin? You've never mentioned a cousin…" Chalk interjected

"Well, I have one. Little guy, nine years old. We call 'im Boots"

"And…why do ya call him that?"

"And…why do ya have to butt into my life?" Shay said with a smirk.

"Whatever. I'm goin' home tonight. Ma's been worried, the last time I went home was over two weeks ago"

Jack listened inquisitively to each word from the other newsies. After some time, Jack discovered that he was the only one not planning on leaving the lodging house, except for Grip.

"What are ya doin' tonight, Sullivan?" he asked.

"I dunno…I was gonna stick 'round here…"Jack replied.

"Look…Ya can't kid…Sorry…"

"What? Why, Grip?"

"'Cause I got someone comin over, and I don't think that person will be impressed by…extra company…"

The newsies exploded with laughter and began teasing their leader.

"Aw man, Grip! Ya got another girl!"

"Finally! Your rep was goin' down, Grip!"

"Ha! You gonna stay with this one for real this time?"

Grip smiled, then silenced the guys. "Shut up! Come on, we still gotta sell today!"

After the morning buzz; the newsies poured into the streets and shouting headlines, but were unable to focus on work. Chalk was too excited about going home; Shay couldn't wait to see Boots. Stealth was eager to spend his night playing poker in Brooklyn, while more Manhattan newsies( Bullet-Flask, Dare, Edgy, etc) were going to roam around and get a few drinks. The younger part of the crew were going to Medda's and maybe getting a bite to eat. Still, after selling around twenty papes by noon, Jack had no idea what he'd do. Thirty papes later, he concluded that he'd just go with the younger newsies to see Medda. Ten papes later, he changed his mind and made a final decision of lounging at the lodging house and avoiding Grip and his guest. Five papes later, Jack was finished thinking, and the sun was starting to set. Jack was surprised by his own obliviousness, but relieved that he had a break.

"See ya tomorrow!" Grip called out as the newsies filed out of the lodging house. Each one grinned and elbowed him in the ribs as they left. Grip ignored their gestures, and, in fact, seemed to be lost in a dreamy state. This was good, however, for Jack, who slipped back upstairs easily. He grabbed a book and threw himself on his bunk, but for a long time, didn't turn the pages. He merely stared at the cover: a faded drawing of a cowboy and his horse.

"I'll go there for ya, Mom. Someday…" he whispered, hoping she'd somehow hear him. Jack could feel his eyes beginning to sting, and felt a chill overwhelm him. His chin started to quiver, and Jack felt horribly ashamed.

"Why are ya crying, Francis?"

"I just…I miss mom…"

"Don't ya dare cry. Men don't cry!" Mr. Sullivan scolded.

Jack continued sobbing, despite his father's words.

"Stop it!"

"It's your fault! Ya weren't here and she died!"

"Don't blame this on me!"

"You were too busy getting drunk!"

"Shut up!"

"You didn't even know she was dead until the next day, you had a damn hangover!"

"Listen to me-"

"No, ya listen-"

"SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!"

"NO!"

Instead of speaking, Jack's father shoved Jack in the chest.

"SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE, YA FAILURE OF SON! MEN DON'T CRY, EVER!"

Jack shuddered, but his flashback was interrupted when he heard the door open downstairs. He rubbed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and eavesdropped on the voices below. He couldn't make out the mumbles, but he knew Grip and a girl were talking. Jack leered, and got out of his bunk. He walked over to the bathroom and hid behind the sink, then continued paying attention. The volume was louder, and Jack could hear the stairs creaking. Grip was laughing, as was the girl; and their tone seemed very loose.

"Travis…" murmured the female voice.

Travis? Jack stifled a laugh. He couldn't imagine Grip's real name being Travis. The room was quiet, for a moment at least, then the squeak of mattress springs filled the room. Jack didn't expect Grip to be fooling around; he didn't think he'd be stuck in the bathroom and unable to interrupt what was going on.

"Dammit…" Jack swore silently. He really didn't want to be around to listen to this, but he couldn't just dash out and have Grip see him.

"Mmmm…"

Echoes were soon bouncing off the walls, which made Jack tremble and smile at the same time. Adjectives and verbs he'd had never heard used with such passion were ringing through his ears. Each word was short, but contained so much meaning.

"I realize why they call you 'Grip'"

Jack closed his eyes and bit his thumbnail, as if the humor would drain from his body and into his cuticle.

"I realize why ya parents don't trust you…"

"I realize why you didn't want anyone around to hear this"

"How ironic…"Jack whispered a little too loudly.

"What the hell? Sullivan!"

Grip scrambled out of the bed, a sheet draped around his waist. The peaceful face he'd worn a few seconds ago had morphed into one radiating with animosity.

"What are ya doing here, kid!"

"I uh…" Jack stuttered.

"I'm giving ya three seconds to leave. One…"

Jack rushed out of the bathroom and down the stairs, without glancing at whoever Grip was in bed with. He didn't care, but the rush of snooping and adrenaline was hard to bare. When he got outside, his emptied his lungs to New York.

"WAY TO GO, GRIP!"