A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed! I'm sorry I didn't update sooner, but I'm hoping that with this chapter I'll be on the path to consistent updating! Just bare with me, I'm a college kid now!

Anyway, I did my best with keeping Jareth Jareth-like, hope you enjoy!

Jareth was tired, tired of school, life, and everything in general. The only thing that brought him solace was his weekly choir practice. He could break lose when he was performing, let all emotion that he had bottled up inside flow from his heart and soul. It was here that Jareth could be Jareth.

It had become a custom of his to attend this particular class early and have tea with his instructor. She was a strong independent woman who had quite simply captured his fascination. Recently a widower to the Great War she too enjoyed the time with her student.

She sat proper and refined as a classic well, classy woman. But she had a definite power to her. Her chin length brown hair curved inwards to her pronounced cheeks. She was thick but not in anyway over weight. It was a defined build. Her dark brown eyes would always seem like they were wandering when she sang as well...her voice, that's what truly made Jareth stir about her. He could not find words do describe her song; it was haunting and beautiful all at once. It had innocence and bravery with strength binding it together. It left him breathless. Mrs. Sadie Howell (Yes an ironic name for such a woman) was one of the few people Jareth found himself enjoying the company of.

"So, I hear you have been falling back in your work a bit in your other classes my boy. Now I know you may think that I was never your age and could not ever relate, but please I implore, what is on your mind?" She was an aged woman, but she carried her age well. Most people would never think that she was in her late forties. Her rosy lips puckered and blew lightly towards her cup before taking a small sip.

Jareth shifted his weight a bit and coked his head. "To be frank, I'm just bored." He took a sip of his tea as well. "I have been finding it harder and harder to get my self to feel like anything is relevant to me anymore." He hated almost all of his lessons and his teachers rubbed him the wrong way. "I don't feel like it's my place in life to be taught all these useless facts and end up in a position under a tyrannical boss at a pay that can hardly support my family." Jareth recalled his own home life. His biggest fear in life was to become a nobody nameless worker like his father and the countless numbers of other Englishman in his county.

Mrs. Howell nodded taking in what he had to say. It was true that the area was not famous for its economic prestige by a long shot. She could fully understand his frustration. "I understand you Jareth, but I don't think you should foolishly toss away your education. Knowledge is power don't ever think otherwise." A noise from behind caused her to look away for a moment as another student entered the room. She pulled out a pocket watch and placed her tea down.

"Looks like its time to put this behind us for now and get to the practice!" She hurried Jareth up and gathered his notes and such before walking over to her podium. Jareth took his place on the risers in the back and waited for the others to shuffle in a little annoyed with the fact he still wished to talk.

There would be time for talk later he supposed.

Practice went well he felt. After an hour and a half of singing he felt as though a lot of his frustration had melted away. His dinner was to be served soon back home so he had little time to stay and talk with Mrs. Howell. His family was large. He was more or less a middle child of eight other siblings and with little money to support them all he would have to hurry if he had any hopes of having dinner that night.

The walk home took him through the better part of town. There was a small population of people that had managed to escape lower class and decided to cluster all together to show off how rich they were to each other. Many of them were factory owners. No work put out for all the profits. Part of Jareth hated these people, but the other part was so envious of their power. Control was something he had never had experienced his whole life.

The kids his age here loved to use their power and shove it in every ones faces. They were "in charge" as far as they saw it. Most of the time Jareth would walk through the center of the block but there was some kind of woman's club organization congregating in the center planning some sort of frilly festival of some kind. He couldn't be bothered with the crowds.

"Bloody hell." He murmured to himself as he ducked into a back street. He was hungry and a little on edge.

He could suddenly hear foot steps behind him. He didn't feel like dealing with any one at the moment so he kept his pace steady looking only before him.

"Oy!" The voice came out sharply. They wanted his attention. Jareth sighed and looked over his shoulder. It was Jack Barrington, the son of his father's boss. They had run-ins before which never seemed to end civilly. The last encounter had nearly landed them in a fight if a patrol officer hadn't come by and questioned them.

Despite their clashing, Jareth and Jack were really rather similar. They both wanted power and control over others. The only problem was only one of them really had it and it was sure not Jareth.

"What do you think you're doing sleuthing 'round my backyard?" He was slightly larger then Jareth, but it was in the middle and not with muscle. He had more strength but Jareth had stamina and determination.

"I'm going home, not that it's really any of your busyness thank you. Incidentally I didn't know this was your yard." Jareth turned and kept walking. Jack however was not amused nor convinced. He was sure that he was up to something.

Jack quickened his pace. "I don't quite trust you downtown kids you know? Nuffin but trouble you lot!" Jareth had no time for this. "Not now Jack. I'm hungry." He stated bluntly and kept onward.

"Don't you just turn your back on me. I don't think that you at all have the place to do such a thing! You're worthless, my family has all the say and all the power in this town. My father has connections." A spark went off within Jareth and he stopped dead and whipped around.

"What do you know about my place?" Jareth walked within a few inched of his rival. "Where do you come off telling someone like me where I belong?" Jareth was not about to have the son of his fathers boss hold the same kind of power over him.

"I suggest you get your grubby little face away from me Jareth." Jack's tone was soft but harsh.

"Why don't you make me?" Jareth could feel his hands shaking. They were currently clenched into tight little fists. The blow to his face came almost too fast for him to react. Jareth staggered backwards supporting a now slightly bloody lip.

"You've just gone and done one of the stupidest things you could have gone and done there Jack." Jareth's voice was so much more noticeably cold. He lunged towards Jack and delivered a like blow to his face but didn't stop there. He was even able to fit in an extra punch. Speed was his best asset and he decided to use it.

In a blind fury Jack pushed Jareth into an adjacent wall causing a hard impact to his head. In a bit of a daze Jareth brought his knee up into the stomach of Jack who in return fell to his side holding the area of impact.

Jareth whipped his face with his hand smearing some of the blood. He spit next to him, more blood.

"Now you listen to me Jack, you may be larger then me, and your father may be rich and have all the connections but you will never, ever have any power over me you hear? You have no power over me at all." Jareth turned his back on the boy who was still trying to catch his breath knowing that this little tussle could have very well cost him his dinner.

Little did he know there was a third party watching in on his fight and they liked what they saw. An old man had some new hope. Derek would be soon traveling to the world of above.