Wow. It's been a long, long time. Almost a year. I just got a sudden...kick or something. A sudden urge to write this story again, to pick up where I left off. I don't know how that's going to turn out, and I sincerely hope I didn't lose all of the awesome reviewers who read this story. I guess we'll see what happens then.

:) So here's to...well, new inspiration.

The warm spring evening cast a glow as Lottie scrubbed the outside of the Widow's Rose, the sun setting with each minute. Her fingers were calloused and the raw skin burned each time she dipped her ratty rag into the steaming bucket of wash water Lady had given Lottie that afternoon. She had been instructed to scrub the grimy bricks just outside the back of the Widow's Rose leading to the alleyway. For what reason, Lottie had no idea. Who cared about the back of the building? But Lottie figured it had something greatly to do with her punishment of the missing pay a few weeks ago. When Lottie had given Miss Velvadine the money she had received from Spot three nights ago, Miss Velvadine had been rather pleased, but her wrath of punishment had not ceased whatsoever. The marks on Lottie's fingers and bruises among her body proved that fact all too clearly.

The warm season was just getting started and Lottie could smell summer in the air. It was a crisp feeling and she awaited the late days with excitement. She despised the fall and winter, and absolutely loved spring and summer, despite the suffocating humidity that didn't quite agree with her mane of curls. She didn't care. The simple smell of lilacs and honeydew was enough to make her forget the treacherous ways of New York City. Not that she had smelled lilacs or honeydew for a very, very long time but she chose to ignore this insignificant detail. Everything just…fell into place during the summer. It was perfection at Mother Nature's best.

She kept thinking of Spot and she didn't know why.

It was really starting to bother her. After the last night they had spent together, she absolutely could not get him out of her mind and she hated that fact. Every time she remembered the feel of his bare chest beneath her trembling fingers, she couldn't help but shiver and feel shame mingled with desire she couldn't suppress. It absolutely infuriated her. Out of all the boys she could possibly become interested in, why, why, why did it have to be Spot Conlon? By now Lottie had understood the type of reputation he held—the kind of girls he chased, the way he was one of the most feared newsies in all of New York. And yet…the last time she had been sent to him, she swore she had seen something in his eyes—something that had died long ago, but was fighting to break out. Who knows. Maybe she had just been imagining things—wishing there was good in his heart.

But there was. There was good in his heart. He wasn't cruel to her—he gave her his money and she hadn't given him anything at all. He could have hurt her—he was much bigger and stronger than she was—he could have easily gotten his money's worth. But he hadn't. Spot had let Lottie go—he'd seen her shake with fear and he had let her go.

What did it mean?

Nothing, Lottie thought. Nothing at all.

Her fingers started to bleed and Lottie bit her lip, keeping the agony inside her where it always was. She scrubbed hard—so hard her arms became numb and her vision unfocused, so hard that she completely lost herself in her cleaning, the sun dying, leaving a pink evanescent glow on the shady alleyway. In all truth, she'd rather scrub a thousand grubby brick walls in alleyways than go back inside the Widow's Rose, or visit another man's room. Cleaning was something she grew used to in previous years. It was mindless work, yes, but there was a certain satisfaction which grew out of cleaning. The end product always filled a void inside of Lottie. A void she wasn't quite sure would ever leave.

It was getting late. And Lottie was getting hungry. Plopping her rag into the bucket of steaming water, Lottie fingered a quarter in her apron pocket. It was pure luck she had found the corner—but having been forced to clean so much, she'd found quite a number of things. So maybe some good was coming out of her punishment—she'd found a quarter after all, tucked neatly away under the fire hearth in the kitchen. If she hadn't of found it, it would have melted the next time she'd be forced to cook a meal.

Lottie looked up at her handy-work. That was enough for tonight, she decided. It was a Thursday, and the Widow's Rose wasn't as busy as its' usual weekends. Grabbing her cleaning materials, she made her way into the back of the building, distributing her cleaning supplies in the cleaning closet, then making her way back to her room. On her way there, she passed a familiar face. Katie was carrying a book in her hand, off duty for the night, and looked up when Lottie passed her.

"Hey!" Lottie said, in a rather good mood. In truth, she was mostly glad to just be done her chores for the night. "What are you up to?"

Katie grinned at Lottie, her long blonde hair pulled low in a piece of twine rope. Her usual black eye makeup adorned her face, and she looked as sallow and run down as ever.

"Just reading," Katie said, closing her book. "Finished for the night?"

Lottie nodded happily as her stomach gave a fierce growl. She grinned as Katie laughed a little. "Yeah, finally I'm done for the night. But I'm starving—want to go get a bite to eat? It's not too late…Miss Velvadine's probably in her office."

Katie hesitated for a moment, then shrugged, stowing her book away in her dress pocket. "Sure, what the hell. I could use something to eat." Lottie smiled, glad to have the company for the night.

Brooklyn was alive at night. Everything just seemed even more awake than usual—venders were about, drunks were crying out for their lost loves, newsboys darted around in attempts to sell the last of the evening edition. Bums were at their usual places for the night, trying to scam money for their booze, the temporary remedy of a broken soul. Lottie and Katie made their way hastily into the warm night—side dodging any shady-looking folk. The night air was warm and thick—summer was definitely around the corner. Lottie's hair weighed down the heat, causing her to frizz and sweat, but she didn't care. Tonight she was off work—tonight Lottie and Katie were just two normal girls, getting some dinner. No one knew them, no one expected anything. It was an exhilarating feeling to be unknown.

"Where we goin'?" Katie asked, looking around at the familiar streets of Brooklyn.

Lottie bit her lip, gathering her surroundings. She'd lived in Brooklyn for awhile now, and was growing accustomed to the streets. "I only know one diner—Biddy's. They are pretty cheap, mind going there?"

Katie shrugged her shoulders. "Fine by me—I've been there a thousand times. You keep forgettin' I've lived in this city my whole life." She gave Lottie a crooked smile, and Lottie grinned.

"I…sorry," Lottie said sheepishly. "I guess I think everyone's pretty new here." The two girls made their way toward the diner, which was pretty busy for a Thursday night. Once they entered, the temperature only seemed to increase with the number of people stuffed inside.

"Maybe this was a mistake," Lottie muttered to Katie, as they pushed their way through the crowd. Along with the usual number of newsboys in the diner, regular locals were interspersed as well. Biddy's seemed to be quite the popular eat around the Brooklyn slums. Katie pulled hard on Lottie's hand as they found an open booth by the window.

"Well, we'se here now, mine as well stay," Katie said, sitting across from Lottie. "Damn, it sure as hell is crowded. You think something's goin' on?" Lottie furrowed her brows, shrugging.

"Why?"

"There's like a gaggle of boys over there," Katie said, nodding to the center of the diner. Lottie looked over, and in fact, there were a group of fifteen or so boys, all huddled around a table, apparently deep in conversation. By their outfits and ink-smudged hands, Lottie knew immediately these boys were newsies. She even recognized a few of their faces, just by merely passing their selling spots on the street. However, one face seemed to stand out particular to her—a sharp, strong-jawed face she'd seen one too many times. Spot Conlon himself sat in the middle of the huddle, talking low, his head bent so Lottie could barely make out his fierce and striking blue eyes. He held an air of power around him that most men twice his age couldn't even dream of obtaining—every young man around him hung on his every word, as if their life depended on it. Lottie sensed that if he wished to do so, Spot Conlon could make every boy in his borough, and allying boroughs for that matter, jump squarely off the Brooklyn Bridge humming London Bridge is Falling Down without so much as a second thought.

"Oh no," Lottie grumbled, burying her face into the menu, quickly disappearing behind it, hoping Spot wouldn't catch her eye. Not that he even noticed her presence—he hadn't seen Lottie and Katie walk into the diner, but Lottie wanted to be extra careful. She wasn't intent on another awkward encounter between the two of them. And yet, the mere presence of Spot was enough to make the hair on the back of Lottie's neck stand straight up. "Qucik, stop looking Katie."

"Why?" Katie asked, confused by Lottie's sudden peculiar behavior. Tentatively, Lottie lowered the menu and made sure Spot was deep in his conversation before relaxing her shoulders a bit.

"Spot Conlon's over there," Lottie muttered. At this, Katie's eyes grew wide and she looked around excitedly. "Stop it! You're being ridiculously obvious."

Katie let out a giggle, something Lottie wasn't even sure Katie had the ability to do. Katie herself seemed a bit surprised by this girlish act, and laughed rather loudly. "Lottie, you're being dumb. Who cares? I mean, we are in Brooklyn. This is the newsies' diner. The chances of running into him are pretty great. Get used to it." Katie's eyes flicked over to the gaggle and fell on the cold Brooklyn leader himself. "Damn, I haven't seen him in a few months. Sure is a looker. Never comes around to the Rose anymore…usually just…orders out."

Lottie curled her lip back in disgust, shrugging her shoulders. "Why does he have so much authority anyway? What's so…great about him?"

Katie shrugged, taking a sip of water their waiter had just placed in front of them. "I dunno. Ever since I could remember Spot Conlon been runnin' the Brooklyn newsies. He ain't much older than me—but I just remember him being so scary, even when we were kids. He's real tough. I grew up around the streets with his lot, knew him practically me whole life. He's got a cold heart, but I've never seen anyone like Spotty Conlon take care of his boys the way he does—sure he ain't soft or nothin', but his Brooklyn pride is thicker than anythin' else."

Lottie took in everything Katie said. There was something about Spot but she couldn't quite pin exactly what it is. Disregarding him for a minute, a new fact registered in Lottie's mind.

"Er…Katie," she said, playing with a corner of her napkin. "Have you noticed…we're the only girls in here?"

Katie put her water down, flicked her eyes about the room, then shrugged, totally unfazed. "Yeah…well Biddy's ain't really known for being the coziest place. Most girls just stay clear of it I guess. I don't mind it…I mean…I've seen worse things than a gaggle of newsies and a few bums."

Lottie gave Katie a gentle grin, looking into eyes of a battered and broken girl. This girl who sat before Lottie truly did have a kind heart, despite everything she'd been exposed to her whole life. It really made you believe in faith—believe that there was some good left in the world. There was hope, there was just…something out there. People like Katie, who could still feel and weren't numb…it was people like her that helped Lottie to just wake up each day and know that somehow, some way everything really would be…okay. Even if that day didn't come for a long, long time.

When they had finished eating, Lottie and Katie stood up to leave, throwing down their money on the table. Lottie immediately felt panic wash over her, involuntary of course, but nevertheless it turned her stomach upside-down. Glancing to the center of Biddy's, Lottie saw that the group of newsies hadn't budged. If anything, they'd just gotten bigger. No matter what, she'd have to pass Spot, but more than likely he wouldn't so much as glance up in her direction, which somewhat calmed Lottie's nerves. Even if he did happen to see her, Lottie was sure he wouldn't so much as even hold her gaze for more than a split second. He'd never approach her, never nod in acknowledgement. It was just the sheer fact that the two had had such awkward encounters…it was just unsettling to Lottie.

It was definitely late—even standing inside the diner, Lottie knew it had to be well past ten o'clock. Curfew for the girls of the Widow's Rose was midnight on weekdays if they were off-duty, and on the weekends three, of course, if they were off duty. Making her way out of the booth, Lottie followed Katie through the thick tangle of boys, most of them throwing the pair of only girls in the diner curious looks. Some had an animal hunger in their stares, others merely nodded at them as they passed. They were approaching Spot's table now, and the newsies all around him begin popping their head up to watch as the girls passed. The hush of the newsies made Lottie's skin crawl. They were evidently discussing something very important and secretive, or they would have not grew so quiet as the girls passed.

Lottie almost wanted Spot to look up—she wanted him to see her, just so she could look into his eyes again, just for a moment. She wished things hadn't been so…weird between them. At least she wasn't on his, well, bad side per say. But his menacing demeanor and intimidating persona made Lottie's insides wiggle. It seemed an eternity ago she was pressing her hands against his bare chest, his large and rough hands working the back of her dress. In all actuality, it was a bit surreal. She never felt such a strangeness between a person and herself, and yet, they had barely exchanged in total more than a few sentences. They barely knew each other…they didn't know each other. But when she looked into those cool eyes of his, Lottie felt vulnerability inside of her she never thought she had.

Spot was in mid-sentence when his eyes flicked up and rested on Lottie. She felt her heard begin to beat fast and loud, her palms get sweaty and she was rapidly losing her composure. The thing of it was, Spot was the only man she'd ever kissed. She felt like he had almost…stolen a part of her. And that scared her a little bit. And now as she was approaching him, about to pass, his eyes lingered on her. All the boys eyes were on the two girls as they made their way past, but Spot's stuck out to her. She couldn't read his eyes—or his face. He was stone cold, but he was definitely looking at her—almost curiously. He stopped talking, and opened and closed his mouth several times. He seemed to have…faltered? Stumbled? Something. But no sooner than he had lost his train of thought did he regain it back, and in almost a flash time sped up; Lottie and Katie were out of the diner, and the important chatter had resumed, as if the two girls had never even been there.

"Did you see that?" Katie said to Lottie, once out into the night. "He definitely remembers you—he looked right at you."

Lottie shrugged. "They were all looking at us…they all seemed so…tense. I wonder if something's up."

Katie shrugged, scrunching back her dress sleeves. Though the night air was a bit cooler, the heat was still there, warm as ever in the busy Brooklyn streets.

Lottie bit her lip as they made their way back to the Widow's Rose. "I don't want to go back to him. I'm scared Katie. I…I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. At all."

Katie gave Lottie a sympathetic look, her haunting brown eyes wide and glistening. She looked at Lottie with the look a mother might give to her daughter, a look that just screams pity and sorrow intermingled with pain. "Lottie, you shouldn't be doin' this. You're better than the Rose…you…you just don't belong here."

Lottie's heart hurt for the girl next to her. "And you do? What makes me so different. No one deserves to sell their bodies. It's…it's all not right."

Katie shrugged, pulling out a cigarette from her back pocket. She offered Lottie one, who refused, then lit up, taking a long, deep drag. "Yeah, but that's life for ya. Not right. Shit, what am I supposed to do else? I'm not gonna starve. And I'm getting out of here. You can bet on that."

Lottie looked sadly at her new friend, hoping more than ever that things would one day work out for Katie Rommely. In the pit of her stomach, however, Lottie felt a sinking feeling that neither of them were ever going to leave New York City or the Widow's Rose for that matter, for a very, very long time.