Honey needed time to think.

But she couldn't even do that. She couldn't focus, couldn't process, couldn't fathom…couldn't -

Three nights had passed since she'd met with the guys in the pub. For three nights their words replayed in her head over and over. For three nights she couldn't forget the serious looks on their faces, the dread, the way their eyes shone…Jack's face was the sharpest in her memory, as if he had been burned into the back of her eyelids. His eyes - they had been depthless. She felt as if she could fall into them…a dark history he carries inside.

A history he knew. And well.

She hoped he would call Agent Martin as he promised - but she couldn't think about that either, not when –

Not when she was supposed to meet them again, tonight. Tyler was a mix of excitement and fright as he told her he'd pick her up around eleven as he left for his last class of the day.

Now the empty arena was all hers for the time she had to kill. Her music blasted through her earbud but the classic Hip Hop failed to drown out the thoughts that kept her up last night, and the night before that…

She thought about David's words repeatedly, like a maddening broken record, her feet unable to move fast enough to carry her away from it all. She moved and twisted and tried the new moves she'd seen on YouTube, but not even her favorite playlist could distract her. Nor the complete emptiness of the arena, the gala planners having left hours before. Kiki was up in the sound booth, practicing the tracks for sound and lighting for the different student showcases. Honey felt like she was dancing through a mirage of dreams as colors and patterns danced over her skin.

She'd watched Tiffany practice less than two hours before. She'd barely seen Tiffany at all since…

not in this life anyway.

She closed her eyes, blocking out Spot's voice.

Tiffany looked so tired, so distracted. For the first time in a while, her heart wasn't in her movements. She'd kept her number secret, of course, all the students did. But Honey wondered where that girl's mind wandered when she danced…or if she fought to forget everything as she did. And failed to. The silent tears falling down her cheeks told her enough.

Honey squeezed her eyes tighter, her body moving on autopilot.

She remembered the first time Tiffany had mentioned him, the young man from her dreams... It was curious at first, an infatuation from dreamland, a man her mind created. But the dreams continued, and it became more…a closeness Tiffany felt but couldn't explain. Her eyes changed when she talked about him as if he had been real.

She remembered the night Tiffany saw him at the club. She had been quiet, but her eyes were almost…hysterical. He's real, she had said to Honey backstage, her voice had quivered with excitement and wonder. How is that possible?

Honey stopped mid-spin, panting as she braced herself on her knees, her sweatpants warm and stifling as her arms wobbled.

Past lives weren't unheard of, she reminded herself irritably. Her mother and grandmothers had told her their stories of helping people overcome their fears and phobias using past life regression hypnosis, and tarot readings…And they had taught her how.

She had never done it before, that is until Tiffany asked her a year ago…to contact her mother.

To Honey's relief, it didn't work. Not really…Tiffany emerged sobbing and too heartbroken, she couldn't even tell her what had happened, what she had seen. She had been shaken, afraid, and confused. She never asked again.

But this –

Honey felt it between them, the guys. She had felt it when they first came to the club - like a tether between them. A knowing they had that transcended brotherhood, even time. As if they'd known each other since birth. The way they talked, the way they watched each other, the awareness of their surroundings…the way they didn't stare at their phones and endlessly scrolled and disconnected like the rest of 'em. The way they kept their cool. It was of a different era.

And the charge, the connection, between Jack and Tiffany…it was immediate and real like she could reach out and grasp it. Honey had been tentative from the start because of how intense and sudden it felt, but she saw the light inside Tiffany flare and spark like it had before her mother had fallen ill…brighter even. Like finding a missing piece.

Did that mean...

Honey's heart leaped and ached at the same time.

Was Tiffany...was Jack...did they...?

She exhaled, feeling a tightness in her chest.

Jack's 'dead girlfriend'...was Tiff?

She began to shake.

Jack knew this whole time, seeing Tiffany and recognizing her from his past... The way he watched her so carefully as if she would burn him. The way he so obviously fell for her, his barriers falling away as if made of sand. He never stood a chance, and he'd known it this whole time, powerless to stop it. Fate.

It made sense. Crazy, but it made sense.

Then, were they all–?

Was Mush–?

She wheeled around, feeling eyes on her back. She froze at the sight of him in the stands above the floor, slowly holding up his hands innocently. As if she conjured him with her thoughts.

She pulled out her earbuds and stormed out of the changing lights, glaring at him as she climbed the stairs. She became more irritated as her heart soared at the sight of him.

"Are you mad?" she hissed, stopping a step below him.

His eyes gleamed as he looked at her, stepping down to the step she stood on, his broad shoulders curling in a little as if to wrap protectively, instinctively, around her.

"Yes," he breathed, a corner of his lips lifting.

Much to her agitation, her cheeks heated - she only wore a sports bra, her sweatpants hanging low on her hips. Why should she feel so exposed in front of Mush when she barely wore anything at the club?

Because he looked at her differently. His eyes were tired, but his gaze devoured her, revered her.

Her heart pounded away but she kept her face stern. "You shouldn't be here."

"An' you shouldn't be here alone."

She dropped her eyes, "Kiki is up in the booth. I'm just…working through some things."

"I saw."

She looked at his face, blushing again. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Dunno…I was mesmerized."

She wanted to be pissed off and send him away. He wasn't safe near her in the open like this. But his smell filled her nose, sweat, weed, and musk, warm and comforting. She wanted to lean into it, to feel his arms around her.

She met his eyes again, seeing the gentle way he looked at her, the way his strong chest swelled. Her skin tightened as she felt the hum between their bodies, the hum she felt when she was with him. The likeness in their skin, the same brightness in their eyes…he was a pool she could dip into without losing herself, but become something new…with him.

"They can come take me away and I'd never be happier than I am right now," he said easily, that grin melting her.

She stopped breathing as his beautiful smile grew and touched his eyes.

"...because I finally got to see you dance."

The sound of her breath leaving her body snapped her out of it - she tore her eyes away from him before she drowned in the joy she saw dancing in his light eyes.

"I've been wondering about something."

His smile fell slightly as he regarded her carefully. "I figure you've been wonderin' non-stop."

She licked her lips. Why were her hands shaking?

"Jazzi called you 'newsies'."

His body stilled in every way. She looked up and saw the color had drained from his face. It was answer enough.

"I-I googled the term," she went on softly. "'Newsies Go On Strike', that was the headline that popped up. From 1899."

He said nothing, but his jaw clenched tightly. She saw years of memories dance in his eyes. Saddness, rage, time.

"You were there," she breathed, amazed and afraid all at once at the silent truth on his face.

He swallowed hard, words forming and disappearing in his mind as he debated.

The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck rose, chilling her to the bone. The confirmation should have scared her - but it only deepened her curiosity, her thirst for 'the other side' tangible in her mouth.

She brought her mother and grandmothers' teachings to the forefront of her mind in an effort to calm herself - observe it, don't drown in it.

But she pressed on, the question prickling on her tongue like a current of electricity as a new fear grew within her.

"How would Jazzi know that?" she whispered.

His breath left him in a rush, his eyes dropping away from her. He looked like a schoolboy in trouble. "I don't know."

"You're lying." The words choked her.

He met her eyes again, something within him flaring. "An' how do ya know I am? How do ya know we haven't been lyin' this whole time? About everythin'?"

She felt her lip tremble, her eyes stinging. "I just - I feel it."

He shook his head, his eyes bewildered. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt Tiffany."

Realizations she'd been fighting against crashed over her like a wave. "Was…was Jazzi there, too?"

She saw it flare again in his eyes and recognized it: Fear.

He dropped his gaze and she let her body crumple into a chair on the end of a row before she could fall down the steps. He didn't look back up as her breath dragged through her throat. Her hand gripped the back of the seat, her eyes wild as she looked back to his handsome, solemn face.

"She was," she whispered, afraid to say it, to accept it.

Jazzi's face – Joselyn's face – flooded her mind…all the memories from the time she had first met her and Tiffany – their laughter, her silence and her dark brooding. Her seriousness. The way she protected Tiff…How did she not see it before –

"It's her story to tell," Mush said tightly.

Honey closed her eyes. She felt cold. "You knew her?"

He waited a beat. "No."

She looked up, seeing the tightness in his jaw. For a moment, he looked angry. He exhaled, the tightness falling away.

"I didn't know her," he explained quietly, his hazel eyes far away as he looked past her. "I…only saw her in the papes."

Her brows knitted. "... 'papes'?"

The bleakness faded from his face as he smirked and huffed a laugh. "Newspapers."

A whole life, a whole different person, she knew nothing about.

But something told her…he was the same now as he had been then, whoever that was.

Her head was swimming. Nothing felt the same.

But there was something else, something big, weighing him down from the inside. She saw it in the way he didn't fully meet her gaze, as if trying to hide the truth. She sighed and looked back to the empty floor, letting it go for now. The lights above the floor turned off, casting them in darkness.

She eyed him through the shadows, wanting to erase the pain and sorrow he carried. Now it was so obvious to her: the weight on his shoulders, the guarded protective way he carried himself, the stories in his eyes.

She felt something snap into place then as she sat looking up at him. She was too proud to say it out loud, not yet…but she wanted it, whatever he was. All of him. As if her own fate had led her to this moment.

She exhaled shakily. "What do we do now?"

She saw his head turn to her but he was quiet for a long moment.

"What do you see? In readings, I mean."

She swallowed, "...well, if done properly…everything."

The arena lights cut on in that moment, blinding them in cold white light. She winced and then gasped as she saw all of him, his image like a burn - she was suddenly fearful.

She took his hand and dragged him behind her up the steps. He gripped her fingers and followed closely as she half ran with him to the sound booth. Not that it mattered - if they were being watched, they'd already seen him with her. She ran all the same.

She pulled him inside the comforting dimness of the sound booth and closed the door, breathing heavily next to him as their arms pressed together against the door. She peaked at him, seeing him gazing at her gently again.

Her cheeks felt hot, and she saw the smartass comment on his smirking mouth as he began to speak -

"If you two are about to kiss, at least give me a heads up."

Honey jumped and they turned their heads - Kiki was lounging in her desk chair, smiling at them and chewing gum, her headset almost too big for her head.

Honey sighed with relief and irritation. Kiki's tight laughter filled the muffled room.

"Relax. No one else was down there."

Mush walked over, lifting on his toes to look out the bank of windows. "Good vantage point, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Kiki winked at him, but her face sobered as she spoke. "T came by before she left. Or rather before she was taken away."

Honey's heart sank. "Is she…ok?"

Kiki scoffed, "What do you think?" But her toned softened as she stood and sighed. "Lady Doom and her goon were with her so we couldn't talk."

Honey's heart skipped a beat and she noticed how Mush stiffened - Jazzi -

Kiki collected her notebooks and stuffed them into her backpack. "So, when are you meeting with the guys?"

Mush shot Honey a charged glance.

"C'mon, you knew she'd tell us everything," Kiki said with a humorless laugh as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "I woulda gotten it outta Race one way or another anyway…so, when are ya meeting with them?"

Honey didn't remove her eyes from Mush. "Tonight. Midnight."

"An' has Jack called Martin?"

Mush looked to Kiki a bit sheepishly.

"Because Martin's called me," Kiki gave an irritated smile. "An' he and I are running out of patience. So tomorrow, seven o'clock, Times Square, the newsstand infront of the Apple store. If Jack knows what's good for him, and really loves Tiffany…he'll be there. Alone."

She crossed to the door and paused, looking at Mush over her shoulder.

"It…really all makes sense, ya know. We don't think it's any crazier than Tiff dreamin' about a guy before actually meeting him…just really hoping this isn't some kind of twisted Romeo & Juliet situation."

"Us too," he murmured seriously.

Kiki looked at Honey and gave her a small smile. "Let me know if you need anything, we'll wait up for ya."

Mush's eyes were strong on Kiki's face. "I won't let anything happen to her."

Honey warmed at his words. Kiki regarded him for a moment.

"I believe that."

She hugged Honey before she left them in the small dark sound booth.

Mush exhaled as the door closed and he and Honey looked at each other. He saw why Racetrack liked that chick.


Kiki waited until she was home and in her room to take out the solid folded piece of paper Tiffany had shoved into her hand in the sound booth. Tiffany's eyes had been blank, save for the gleam within them, the press of her fingers sure and determined in Kiki's palm. Kiki knew that look.

Now in the calm silence of her bedroom, Kiki's eyebrows knitted as a flash drive tumbled out of the paper and into her palm. Tiffany's clumsy scribble was on the inside of the paper:

My showcase routine. Martin approved. New plan.

Kiki's stomach dropped.

"Shit."