Okay, like I am so sosososososososo sorry. I know. I am absolutely terrible. I'm just a horrid person. But I am finally updating. I have been so DAMN busy, I have had litrally no time for ANYTHING let alone free writing! But I finally am updating. And I rewrote the last Racetrack scene, so you should go reread it. I also wrote another short story called Right Side of the Bed. It's a Mush oneshot, and I would love it if you'd go read it! Anyways, I hope you like this chapter! I will try to be updating more frequently, and I promise no more oneshots until I finish this story! PLEASE let me know what you think dears. ENJOY!

The girls and I walked for a while, talking about all sorts of things. At first just the night, and even Sappy shared a few laughs. But soon I found myself opening up, and telling them some personal things. I don't know if it was because I felt closer to them now, or if it was just the alcohol. But either way, I heard myself telling them about my unknown mother, and the father that took me in.

"Dale raised me, taught me school, and loved me very much. He was a bartender," Notes cut me off to make an exclamation.

"Dat explains why ya beat Spot at dat drinkin game!" I grinned guiltily.

"Yeah, I had quite a few drinks growing up." Sappy looked at me, and I could see her respect for me grow. That amused me.

"Why'd ya leave?" Notes was right back on topic, pulling me out of my thoughts as we passed another dark alley.

"I wanted to experience the world. Dale was a little overprotective. I wanted to sing. So I ran away. Haven't been back since." The girls nodded taking that in. Notes started to say something, and then stopped.

"What Notes?" She glanced at me, a curious look on her face.

"I just wanted to know if, well, if you'll ever go back?"

"Of course," I said. "Just not yet. I'm not ready yet." They let it drop, continuing to walk, until I heard Sappy curse to my right, as she stubbed her toe on a rock.

"I wish I had me a dad," Sappy muttered. Now I stopped and put a hand on her shoulder, guilt overwhelming me.

"I'm sorry, Sappy, I didn't mean to seem ungrateful, I just—" she shrugged me off and walked on. Notes and I shared a look. Oh really. She thought she could do that, on this walk?

We tackled her from behind.

"Goils!" She tried to push us off, but we just laughed and smothered her, until she gave in.

"We love youse, Sappy," Notes said finally, and she took Sappy's hand. I took her other, and we walked the rest of the way to Brooklyn like that.

We met Dice outside the lodging house, keeping very quiet. We weren't sure if Spot had come back yet, and if he had, if he was still awake. I was not risking seeing that son of a bitch again. At least, not if I could help it. When Dice closed the front door behind him and walked down the steps, he looked completely distracted. His face was wrought with stress.

"You alright, Dice?" He did not answer my question.

"Spot's up in his room now," he said instead. "He won't be comin out any time soon." I shared sly grins with the girls. Dice now moved past me, obviously wanting to leave. He turned towards me, eyebrows raised.

"Ya comin?" I sighed, knowing it was my time to move on. My life in Brooklyn had come to an end. Not one I was too happy with, but it was all over now. I was going to start afresh. I'd learned from my mistakes, and I hopefully wouldn't be making them over again.

I hugged Notes, the first of the Brooklyn girls to befriend me.

"Thanks for everything, Notes," I said, and she gave me an extra squeeze. It was ironic really, the leader of the tough Brooklyn girls probably had more heart than all the rest of them put together. I was definitely going to miss her.

"No moah boys til youse consult us, missy," Sappy said, and she pulled me into a rough embrace. I smiled. Sappy had most certainly grown on me.

"Songboid, we gotta go." I clasped their hands one last time and gave them a wink.

"See ya my dears," I said, and ran past Dice, finally free.

"Songboid, wait up!" I slowed down, breathing in the cold night air. I was so excited. I felt ready to run, ready to fly, the world was now opened up to me, and I realized how wonderful it was to be your own person. To belong to no one but yourself. It was glorious.

"Dice, what did he say?" I wanted to know how Spot had taken it. Taken me. Dice didn't answer at first though.

"He was pissed, obviously." I nodded. Okay. Anything else?

Silence.

"Dice, are you alright?" Had Spot said something to Dice? Had what she done broken up their friendship?! Dice closed his eyes for moment, debating whether or not to share his thoughts. He'd better, I thought.

"Ya remember Buttafly and AlleyCat?" He finally asked. I nodded slowly, not sure what this had to do with anything. Alley Cat hadn't said a word to me, silent as a mime. I'd never actually spoken to Butterfly, but I'd seen her.

"Dey've been missin now, foah quite some time. Spot and I had a plan, befoah all dis, but now, he's not in da mood." I looked at his face, taut with worry, and I took his hand. It was my fault after all. I had caused Spot's "mood".

"I'm really sorry, Dice," I said, hoping he'd hear the sincerity in my tone. He shrugged it off, but kept hold of my hand as we continued to walk and talk down the dark streets of New York, all the way to Queens.

"Well, here ye be," he said when we reached a dingy two story building. I looked it over, from bottom to top and I smiled nervously, my thoughts racing ahead to my new "life".

"Ya want me ta come witcha?" I shook my head, though grateful; that wouldn't make a very good first impression, now would it? I had come here to prove I didn't need anyone! I could do anything, by myself.

"I'll be alright," I replied. "But thanks for everything, Dice," I said, and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before pushing him away. "Now go on, get out of here. I'll see you around, Dice." Dice gave a small smirk, and nodded in agreement.

"Most certainly. See youse." And he was gone. My life in Brooklyn, was now, officially, over.

To my complete surprise, the front door of the lodging house slowly opened, and a head peeked out.

"Is he gone?" When I didn't answer, mouth still hanging open in shock, the owner of the head stepped out, and it turned out to be an older teenage girl. She looked around and nodded.

"Finally. Took ya long enough," she muttered. Then she raised an eyebrow at the face I wore. She gestured to the door.

"Ya comin, dearie?" How did she know I was here? How did she know I was "coming"? I wanted to ask these questions and more, but that eyebrow looked vicious, and I decided not to risk it. I would trust Dice. He'd brought me here telling me this was the best place for me. I walked up the steps, silent. The girl held the door open for me, as quiet as I was. I stepped through that door, no clue what Queens, lovely Queens, had in store for me.

Shackles sprinted down the last stretch, and Racetrack, lost in the moment, remembered that this part of racing had always been his favorite. The final 500 feet, when you left everything behind, nothing else mattered except getting to the finish line as fast as you possibly could. It was incredible. It was only his first race back, but Racetrack knew, no matter what happened, he couldn't go back to the newsie world. This is where he belonged. At least one good thing came out of the whole Songbird escapade.

They didn't come in first. Obviously. But they'd done well. They'd made seventh, and Racetrack was happy. He led Shackles in a warm down walk, and then back into the stables. His friends were waiting there. Blink, Jack, Mush, Skittery, Boots, Snipeshooter, Crutchy, David and Les were all there. Race grinned, a burst of joy shooting into him when he saw them. They all cheered for him, and none of them looked mad in the least. Racetrack had a feeling that if he hadn't been leading a horse, they would have tackled him.

"I gotta clean Shackles up, but den I'll be ready," he said, making them all cheer some more. Racetrack quickly put his horse away, scrubbing her down, and giving her some oats. Paul, his trainer came and congratulated him profusely.

"Already seventh, if you improve any more, which you will, you'll start winning!" Racetrack nodded, still smiling. Paul clapped him on the back and gave him the rest of the day off.

When Racetrack was done with Shackles, he locked her stall door, and quickly switched his helmet for his beaten cabbie hat. Time to fix his mistakes and make everything better.

"Racetrack!" Now he was attacked. His friends were all over him, all talking at once, not listening, and dragging him out the door. Apparently they were going to Tibbys.

They arrived pretty quickly, and the boys sat him down at a big table. They ordered their lunch and then they all became quiet as they looked at Race, waiting for him to begin. Race realized they wanted a story. Mainly, why had he left?

"Hey boys," he said, giving a smile. He couldn't stop today. It felt so good, and already his cheeks were starting to hurt; he hadn't smiled a lot recently. "So, ta be honest, I ran away, as ya probly guessed. I'm real sorry I didn't tell youse, but I was pretty, upset, when I left." He paused, looking around to see everyone's faces. They didn't look mad.

"Are ya still upset, Race?" Les asked this, his higher voice standing out in the silence.

"Nah, not upset, kid. I'm actually pretty happy seein you guys, taday." They all smiled then.

"We've missed ya, Race," Jack said. Racetrack nodded.

"Not as much as I'se missed youse," Race responded, looking at them all, and just like that, the tension was broken, and it was like old times again.

"Youse almost won taday, Race!" Boots said this, awe in his face, and Race shrugged.

"Almost," he said. "But dat was only cuz I pulled back at da end." His old joking self was coming back by the minute, and he gave a toothy grin at Boots.

"I didn't want nobody ta think I was cheatin aftah all!" They laughed, saying shoooore, and then their food came, and it turned into a very good lunch. Blink caught Race's eye, and they shared a smile, a knowing smile, a long lasting one, and one that was filled with hope.

Spot Conlon never had hangovers. He had a very fine constitution for whiskey, or practically any kind of alcohol. But last night had been different. He had gone to his absolute limit. One he hadn't known he'd had, and now his head felt like every hammer in the entire world was being bashed against every side of his head. He had collapsed on the roof the night before, the cold night air helping just ever so slightly, and now, awake, head throbbing like mad, he was not in the best mood. He wanted to knock his head against the wall; maybe that would help. Help at least the pain. But, that pain, the immense intense pain, could not compare the rage he had. Nothing could describe how bloody furious he was with that girl, Songbird. She had played him, dammit. And he had fallen for it.

"Spot."

Spot did not turn around. He wasn't moving right now. He'd figured Dice would come eventually.

"Spot, we need ta talk." Spot still didn't respond. Dice came and sat in front of him. Spot rolled his eyes, but even that hurt.

"Foistly, get a grip. Alley and Buttahfly are gone. Dey have been foah too long. Harlem has, I just know." Spot couldn't think about that right now. His mind couldn't process a thought long enough to realize the reality of the situation.

"Secondly, Songboid's gone." Spot felt his blood boil. Good riddance. He never wanted to see her again, in fact…

"I nevah want ta heah her name again," he spat. Dice's eyes narrowed as he stood.

"Spot, I have great respect foah youse, but it's very sad dat a goil who you was gonna screw ovah is takin up moah space in yoah head den Alley and Buttafly!" He stormed over to the fire escape.

"Stay heah den. But when we find em dead, I'll make shore to tell Harlem, Spot danks youse."

After Dice left Spot did bang his head against a wall. Dice was obviously incredibly hurt, but Spot could not deal with it right now! Couldn't Dice see how much pain he was in? Once this damn hangover was gone, then he would tell Dice, something along the lines of sorry, and they'd go find Alley and Butterfly.

As for Songboid… Spot bashed his head one last, for good measure. Get the hell out.

Okay, soooooooooo, feedback? What do you think is going to happen? What'd you think of all the characters? Oh, and did you like what I changed in the last chapter with Race and Blink? Did that seem more in character? PLEASE let me know! Review! Thank you my lovely lovely readers! Hugs and kisses!