Author note: Blah, blah, blah, I hope you like this chapter!

Normal P.O.V

I heard birds chirping right outside my window, and rose out of bed. My stomach rumbled, causing Chance to squirm a bit. I smiled, and got out of bed. I ran my fingers through my hair and walked downstairs, and into the kitchen.

I grabbed some bread, and put half of it on the floor, and got Chance a bowl of water. I ate whatever was left. Where is everyone? I finished "breakfast" and quietly crept up the steps, and peeked into the boy's room.

I laughed at the sight. Some boys were lying on top of each other, and others were passed out on the floor. I slowly walked over to Spot's bed to find him fast asleep. He looked a bit sick to me, but I knew why. Well, he's the damn "king" of the newsies, so he should have to get his ass up!

I pulled the sheets off of his body, and he was still wearing the clothes he wore yesterday. Spot moaned in aggravation and his hand searched the bed for his blanket. I threw them on the floor and placed my hands on my hips.

"Get up, Spot," I said loudly. Spot pulled the pillow out from under his head and threw it at me. I caught it in my hands and scowled.

"Get up!" I said again, throwing the pillow back at him. Spot put his hands on his head and groaned in pain. I smirked at his pain as he clutched his stomach.

"You see, that's the downside of drinking," I said, shaking him slightly.

"Stop," Spot pleaded, pushing my hands away. I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

"Come on Spot, you have to sell papes!" I nearly yelled, causing him to clutch his head.

"Go away…" he said, trying to fall back to sleep.

"Aw, what's wrong, Spot? Does your head hurt?" Spot groaned again.

"Listen, Spot, if you don't get out of bed and come sell papes then I'm leaving…for good." Spot's head shot up, causing his headache to increase.

"What?" he asked.

"I said, if you don't get out of bed then I'm leaving!" Spot shook his head and rose from his bed. He stumbled into me, and I stumbled backwards a bit.

"Sorry," he muttered, walking into the washroom, probably to throw up. I walked downstairs, hoping that Spot would remember to wake everyone else, and sat in the main room. I played with the cards on the table. The room smelled of beer and cigars, not very welcoming in the morning.

I heard someone walking downstairs, and saw Skip standing in the doorway.

"Mornin!" he said, giving me a smile. I smiled back,

"Good morning." He had a cup of water in one hand, and an apple in the other.

"So, you're one of the few who didn't drink?" I asked, glancing over at him as he sat down.

"Yup. Youse shoulda seen everyone last night; it was hilarious," Skip said, laughing to himself. I grinned and waited for Spot to stumble downstairs.

I gave him a quick smile and opened the door. Spot clutched his head as we walked outside into the noisy crowd.

"Make them shut up!" he said through clenched teeth.

"Alright," I grinned. I turned to the massive crowd of people, and began to yell, "Hey everyone! Spot has a headache so if you don't mind being quiet, he'd highly appreciate it!" I got a few confused looks, but passed my mission. Spot's headache increased from my screaming.

"Shut up!" he growled. I smiled and pulled him along.

"Now, now Spot, we must use manners," I reminded him. Spot groaned as we walked to the distribution center. Well, I walked, and he wobbled. I walked up to the window.

"Good morning!" the man said, smiling widely.

"Morning. Twenty papes," I said, slapping my coins down into the desk. The man happily slipped me the papes, and Spot walked up next.

"Fifty," he said, pulling out his money.

"Fifty? Oh come on Spot, you can do better than that," I said. "Give him a hundred," I said, putting more change onto the table.

"I don't want-"

"Come on, Spot. You can't ruin your reputation by buying fifty!" I said loudly, causing Spot to flinch. Spot made a face, which caused my heart to skip a beat. It looked like he was…sad. Damn it! Don't feel sorry for him; don't feel sorry for him…He was mean to me yesterday, so he deserves this! I told myself. I led Spot out into the crowd, and we sold our papes near an alleyway.

I yelled a few false headlines, and got a couple of buyers. Spot stood there, looking dead. His face looked flushed of color, and he looked like he was getting ready to…I knew there was a reason as to why I brought him over to an alleyway. Spot quickly ran into the alley and began to puke.

I bit my lip, telling myself that this was his fault. I didn't know if I should help him, or ignore his pain. I sold a few more papes, and watched Spot return and remain looking dead. Some people did buy papes from him, but that was only because they felt sorry for the poor newsboy.

I finished selling, and decided that Spot suffered enough. I walked over to him and grabbed his papes. He didn't have enough energy to protest, so he just watched me sell them. It didn't take long until I finished, because girl newsies had the upper hand at selling. I handed Spot the money, and gave him a stern look.

"Youse didn't hafta…" he trailed off. I shook my head and dragged him to the nearest restaurant.

I ordered the both of us a coffee, and waited patiently for it to be served.

"This is your fault," I told him, looking away. Spot remained silent.

"What happened to youse yesterday?" he asked, staring down at the table.

"What?" I asked.

"I can remember Skip threatening me ta lay off youse because somethin happened…What happened?" I blinked a few times.

"Nothing," I lied, looking down at my hands. Spot took his hat off and laid it down on the table.

"Why won't youse tell me?" he asked, massaging his temples.

"Because…" I started. "Just because." Spot looked a bit disappointed as the waiter brought us our coffee. I thanked him, and pushed a cup towards Spot. He hesitantly sipped it.

"Was it dat bad?" Spot asked, catching me off guard. I stared down at my cup, and didn't reply. "Just tell me dis, does it hafta do with tha cut on yer face?" Spot asked. I slowly nodded. I wiped my eyes so I wouldn't cry.

"It's nothing important," I lied again. Spot had a gift for seeing through my lies.

"Who?" he asked. I raised my eyebrows. "Who hoit youse?"

"Nobody." Spot glanced over at a couple who were telling each other of how much they loved the other. I rolled my eyes and couldn't help but laugh.

"Do youse trust me?" Spot asked, looking up at me. I glanced out the window, and then back at Spot.

"I don't know who to trust anymore," I plainly said.

"Dat ain't what I'm askin youse. Do youse trust me?" I took a deep breath, and looked into Spot's eyes.

"Yes," I told him. Spot smiled slightly.

"Good."

"Spot?" I said. Spot raised his eyebrows. "Why were you drinking?" Spot looked away.

"Because," he said. "Because it's what I do when I'm…not happy." Spot studied my face.

"Drinking isn't good for you," I said, taking a sip of my coffee.

"I know," he said, leaning back in his chair.

"Promise me," I said. "Promise me that you won't drink anymore…" Spot smiled, and nodded.

"I promise." He then looked away and watched people come and go, both of us enjoying the other's company.

Next Chapter: Why does Christmas always have to come to fast? On Christmas Eve somebody leaves a gift for Sage on her bed.

Christmas night the Manhattaners come over and celebrate, and who does Sage get caught under the mistletoe with? And who left her the gift?

Author note: I know that this chapter was short, but it was meant to be short. So, I hope you liked it, and look out for the next chapter to find out who Sage kisses. Is it Spot…or is it Skip? Or maybe it's Art… Or...Splinter! Hehe, just wait and see.