Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters from the Disney movie "Newsies."

Alright, So I was planning on uploading this earlier. A lot earlier. But my friggen power went out (the whole blocks power, to be exact) for several hours. Grrr. I never realized how lost I am without my computer. Playing solitaire over and over again for roughly four hours just doesn't cut it.

On with the newsieness.

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Chaos's Point of View

The next time I opened my eyes, I was lying on my back staring at the bunk above me. The strong morning sun was streaming into the window and hitting me in the face. The sound of birds chirping outside the bunk room window told me that the storm had passed.

I blinked a few times in order to clear my vision. When my eyes focused after a couple seconds, I saw a note directly above my head. I sat up to look more closely at the piece of paper on a string. It was tied to the planks of the bunk above me and was spinning around slowly on the end of the string, roughly 2 feet above my mattress.

"Don't even think about getting out of this bed."

It didn't have to be signed for me to know who it was from. I ripped the note off and crumpled it, string and all. Judging by the silence in the bunk room, I assumed I was alone. I swung my legs over the side of the bed to get up, and came face to face with Ghost. "Woah!" I yelled, nearly toppling backwards onto the bed again.

Ghost had been sleeping in the chair next to my bed. His head was drooping forward with his chin against his chest. When I screamed, I had woken him up in a panic. Ghost's head snapped up. His feet got tangled as he tried to scramble out of the chair, and he landed on the floor.

I had to stifle a laugh as I stared down at Ghost, who was now a heap of confusion on the floor. He rubbed his head and groaned as he stood up. "Well, you're feelin' better." He mumbled.

I shrugged but smiled, helping him the rest of the way to his feet. "I see ya got Spot's note." Ghost said, motioning to the crumpled up paper in my hand. "I also see you ain't too keen on listenin' to him, since yer already outta bed." He added.

I threw the note over my shoulder and it landed on my bunk. "I'm tired of him tellin' me what to do." I said, grabbing my hairbrush and heading towards the wash room. "Wait, where are ya goin'?" He asked, following after me.

"I dunno, but one things for shoah. I ain't stayin' heah. I'm in no mood to deal wit Spot after dat prank he pulled on me." Now that my mind was clearer, thinking about how Spot said he cared about me... I realized there was no way in hell that was true. It just wouldn't make sense. He didn't care about anyone but himself. Besides, I couldn't deal with his hot and cold mood swings any longer.

Setting my hairbrush down beside the sink, I turned on the faucet. Ghost stood in the doorway and leaned against the frame with his shoulder. "Why would ya think what he said was a prank?" Ghost asked.

"Because, Ghost. He likes to mess wit me mind, a'right?" I said as if it was obvious. I rubbed my face with some soap and rinsed it off with cool water. Over the sound of the faucet, I heard Ghost sigh.

"Look, Chaos... I know ya think Spot's out to mess up yer life, but dere's a lot of stuff you don't know." After drying my face with a towel, I brushed through my hair and began to redo my braids. "Oh yeah? Like what." I challenged.

In the reflection of the mirror, I saw Ghost bite his lip and shove his hands in his pocket. "Like Cricket. Spot never kicked him out. We did some investigatin' over da past few days, and it toins out he ain't who he said he was."

I caught Ghost's eye contact in the mirror and waited for him to explain. "Member dat guy who pulled a knife on you? Da one lookin' for 'Logan'?" Ghost asked. I nodded slowly, wondering where he was going with this.

"He was talkin' about Cricket. That's not a real nickname, Chaos. His name's Connor Logan. We got Jack to aks 'round Midtown, and it turns out dat dere's no one from dere named Cricket. He's bad news... You know how Harlem's been interested in Brooklyn territory?" Ghost asked. He didn't wait for me to answer before continuing.

"Harlem sent him sorta as a spy to see what's goin' on 'round heah, especially wit Conlon. When dat guy came lookin' for him, probably ready to bash Logan's head in for bein' a traitor in some udda' part of da city, Logan got scared and ran off."

I opened my mouth to reply, but Ghost stopped me. He continued, talking faster as if he had to prove something. "And speakin' of dat guy in da alleyway, when he grabbed ya in 'nd pulled da knife...Pipsqueak hoid yer screamin' and came to da docks for help. Now, Spot's always been one to stand up for his newsies, Chaos, but I'se never seen fear like dat before in his eyes. Soon as he found out you was da one in trouble, he was outta dere so fast you woulda thought dere was a fire or somethin'."

I had long since stopped getting ready and turned to look at Ghost. My mouth was slightly open and all I could really do was blink stupidly. He had given me way too much information at once, and I couldn't process it. I let everything sink in for a couple seconds before I found my words. "If Spot cares as much as you say he does, den why's he such an ass to me?" I said slowly.

A smile played on Ghost's lips, like he knew something that I didn't. "My guess is dat he don't know how ya feel 'bout him, so he don't know how to treat ya." Ghost replied, shrugging. "So he's a jerk to me because he doesn't know how else to treat me? Dat doesn't make much sense..."

"Den go aks him." Ghost suggested. I raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" I said in disbelief. "Go aks him why he's such a jerk to ya." He repeated, as if it were obvious. I laughed and turned around, turning on the sink again to brush my teeth. "No, Ghost. Dat won't help anythin'." I answered.

"Oh yeah? Says who?" he walked over to me and stood beside the sink. "Look, Chaos. You can either get yer stuff togedda, pick up, 'nd leave dis place without ever knowin' why he treats you da way he does... Or ya can go talk to him 'nd find out. He should be down at da distribution office by now..."

Ghost playfully tapped the side of my face with the back of his hand. "Yer choice, Chaos." He said, almost challenging me with his tone of voice. Ghost left the washroom and I stared at the doorway after him, thinking over what he had said and sorting through my own thoughts.

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It's kinda short. I know. And a bit of a cliffhanger. Please don't come after me with pitchforks or anything?? I'll update first thing in the morning.

Thanks so much to the people who have been reviewing. Including 'Joker is Poker with a J', who definitely gets the award for "most reviews given from a single person in the span of 24 hours." Haha, thanks guys. It's much appreciated :)