#but im playing jack kelly though so its okay

[not-fuckmegentlywithaslurpee]

I am playing Jack Kelly (I’m on the right btw) in my schools production of Newsies with two of my best friends playing Davey and Kath and it’s just a grand ol’ time (also stress because ya girl is not a tenor, but she is doing her best!!!)

[newtsies]

When I Was Your Man || A Ralbert One Shot

a/n - hello! so basically this one shot is a College Newsies AU where Racetrack and Albert broke up and Race started dating Spot :'). it's about ralbert though?? so it's like- okay its from alberts POV and it's based on When I Was Your Man so yeah :D (all lyrics from the song will be in bold and italicized),, i'll only be writing the chorus once <3

also i didnt edit this cuz its late and IM TIRED SO sorry if it sucks lol

tw('s) - cussing

same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now

Albert didn't sleep well at night, if he even slept at all. His bed was empty. The same bed that he had slept in since the beginning of college. But it wasn't his bed, it was their bed. At least, it used to be theirs. Now, it was just his, but he couldn't accept that it was only his.

But at one point, it was theirs. Him and Racetrack, it was once their bed. Even if it was only his, Albert could swear that Race's body was still outlined in the cushion of his bed.

The bed used to be so small, too small for the two of them. They cuddled together to keep each other from falling off. But now it was huge. He had no-one to roll over to in the morning, he was alone.

He couldn't even sleep on the right side of the bed. That was Race's side. Even if Race hadn't slept on the bed for a long time, even if he would never sleep on the bed again. That was his side, not Alberts.

And often times he would lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. He would reach over to the right for his boyfriends- ex-boyfriends hand. But it wasn't there. He reached over and was met with sheets and pillows.

So he didn't sleep, because he had no-one to sleep with and his bed was too big to sleep in. And he stayed awake until the next morning when he got into his car and drove from his apartment to the school.

Not even in his car did he get peace. It wasn't his car, it was Race's car. Race had picked it out, he liked the color. And it smelled like Race's cologne and it held memories of Race in each dent of the leather seats.

So he sold the car. He got a new car, his own car. But even with the smell of Race gone, with his memories in the seats gone. The radio in the new car betrayed Albert.

our song on the radio but it don't sound the same

The car radio had one station, and Albert could swear that the station only had one playlist they played each day. Because every day, and it never missed one day, it would play their song. The song they first danced to. So Albert turned off the radio, and he never turned it on. Even when friends begged him to play music, the radio staid off and he played music from his quiet phone.

Every day, Albert showed up to school exhausted. He nearly passed out in class. Lunch was the only time he ever slept. Everyone assumed he didn't get sleep due to his hard classes, which couldn't be farther from the truth. He didn't do his work. He couldn't pay attention in class, not with Race there.

when our friends talk about you, all it does is just tear me down

"You really lucked out being with him, Al," Jack said.

Romeo agreed and added onto the comment, "Kelly's right. He's gorgeous. And a genius too. Too smart for his own good."

Albert raised his head from his arms with a desperately sad look. He sighed and shook his head, "I told you guys. I know we broke up a while ago, but it still hurts, okay?" He rested his head back into his arms and closed his eyes tightly. His heart ached with every comment. He knew Race was gorgeous. He knew Race was a genius. He knew so much about him, yet he didn't know him enough to keep him happy.

"Sorry, man. Forgot," Jack mumbled. Romeo muttered something of an apology and scratched at his neck.

"I know you hate school activities," Romeo started, "But you should come to the party tonight. Dance a little, I think it'll cheer you up."

Albert sighed and tried not to think about why dancing would be hard for him. He looked up and pushed his hair out of his face, "I'll come."

'cause my heart breaks a little when i hear your name

"Race!" Spot called from the couch. The music boomed and Spots voice was quiet, but Albert heard the name anyways. He immediately turned to the boy.

Spot grinned as Race made his way over to him. Race plopped into his lap and smiled back as he hugged the boy. Alberts eyes widened and his chest ached.

Even just hearing Race's name hurt Albert, brought back a wave of memories. Each yell of Race's name when he did something dumb, each fond laugh of the name when he complimented him, each whine of Racetrack's name when he bugged Albert too much. He missed it all.

it all just sounds like ooh, ooh, hoo

Jack and Romeo were definitely talking to Albert, but he couldn't hear anything they were saying. The music sounded like gibberish and he couldn't think. All he could do was stare at the couple on the couch and ache at the sight.

mm, too young, too dumb to realize, that i should have bought you flowers

Albert watched as Race giggled at the flower Spot offered him. Spot smiled and put the small yellow flower behind Race's ear. The stem stuck between his ear and his head whilst the bud pointed outwards.

The years that they dated, Albert and Race were young and naive. He didn't know how to be romantic or how to make Race happy. No matter how hard he tried.

"I should've bought him flowers," He sighed. Jack and Romeo shared a knowing glance before pushing Albert to sit down on the couch.

and held your hand

"I mean," Albert continued, "I was too insecure to do anything with him." They didn't even hold hands in public, because Albert was scared. Scared of what society would think.

should have gave you all my hours, when i had the chance

Albert and Race had started dating their first year of college. Albert was constantly busy with classes. He was always doing work and stressing about class.

Anytime Race would make an attempt to spend time with him, he shut it down.

"I'm doing work," He would say, "You should be doing work, too."

He wanted to do well, get a good job, find a good home, start a family. But all of that was dumb. It was pointless. To hell with it all if we didn't get to come back from his job to see Race. Because Race was his home and he didn't want to start a family with anyone else.

take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance

"Al!" Race would whine and grab at his arm, "Dance with me, please. Just for a little bit."

Albert never did dance with him. No matter how much he asked, he refused to do so. He couldn't, he needed to get good grades. He needed to provide.

"We can dance later," He would say.

The usual response he would get was, "Promise?" But one day, he received a different answer, "There isn't going to be a later. Not for us, Albert."

now my baby's dancing, but he's dancing with another man

Race pulled Spot up from the couch. They smiled as they moved together to the middle of the room. The music vibrated around them as the two danced.

Albert watched from the camp as he shook his leg. He took in a deep and quaking breath before stumbling out of the house. He threw his cup to the side and gulped in a large breath.

my pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways, caused a good strong man like you to walk out my life

"What do you mean their won't be a later for us, Racer?" Albert had asked, finally looking up from his studies.

Race had scoffed, "Oh, of course! That's what gets you to look me in the eye, huh?" He had rolled his eyes, "We're done, Al. I can't do this anymore, can't do us. Okay? You're so god damn selfish. You only do what's best for you. Ever think about what's best for us, huh? Do you ever even think about me?"

"Of course I think about you, Race. You're all I ever think about," Al had stuttered out.

"Sure," Race had laughed sourly, "I just wanted to fucking dance, Albert. You wouldn't even do that with me. I'm leaving." With that, Race had grabbed all of his stuff and walked out of the apartment.

now i never, never get to clean up the mess i made, oh. and that haunts me every time i close my eyes

Albert closed his eyes when he left the house. Their breakup flashed behind his eyelids and he choked out a sob. He fell to his knees on the grass.

"God damnit," He weakly hit the grass beneath him, "I could've fixed it. I could- Could've. But- Spot. I can't fix it anymore."

although it hurts, i'll be the first to say that i was wrong

He shook his head, "Race was right. I never thought about him." And his stomach twisted with that realization.

Albert has thought he was thinking about Race, about their future together. But it was never about Race, it was about him. He needed to good grades, Racer didn't. Everything that happened was his fault, and he knew that.

oh, i know i'm probably much too late, to try and apologize for my mistakes

He took a deep breath before falling back to sit down on the grass. The door opened and a boy with curly blonde hair sat down next to him.

Race gave Albert a sad smile.

"I'm not going to say sorry," Albert started, "Because that won't make up for anything. I was wrong, about everything." Race nodded.

"Al," Race said quietly.

Albert shook his head with a small grin, "Don't. Go get, Spot. Be happy. Go love the boy who you want to see when you get home from long work days, okay? Love him the way I love you." He paused, "Not the way I treated you, but the way I feel about you. I know it didn't seem like it. But I love you."

Race smiled and gave Albert a pat on the cheek, "I loved you too."

That was the sad tragedy of their relationship.

Albert was in love with Race. Race had been in love with Albert.

They loved each other at different times. But Albert could accept the pain of being in love with a boy would didn't love him back, because even though Race was in love with someone else, he was happy. And that's all Albert wanted, because Race deserved to be happy.

[jack-kellys]

it’s fizz, with another fic, another au. idea lowkey stolen from the lovely @vioislit, but she has input don’t worry :)

anyhow

———————

“super” broke

words: 1.2k

warnings: cursing, pain description, passing out...yes that’s all

—————

Jack

Jack didn’t actually like being late.

Crew was supposed to be at tech way before the actors, and yet here Jack was, earning a disappointed glare from his stage manager. Especially as her ASM, assistant stage manager, he should be ten minutes earlier.

Another thing Jack didn’t like- or understand, really: why was he, a design major, assigned to assistant manage again? He could’ve helped design this whole set instead of attending rehearsals and taking notes and all the damn reading he had to do and the organizing and piles of paperwork… Well. Maybe he was assigned this to reorganize himself, actually. God knew he’d been wildly caught up in...himself.

Jack had reason, of course. It wasn’t some self-absorbed thing (for once, Spot would say). He was genuinely busy outside of Shakespeare In Love—he had semester courses that were finishing up and finals were damn near literally creeping up his asshole, he swore. He had an entire art project to do that in actuality would have taken him two months...if he didn’t have only two weeks to do it.

Jack groaned inwardly as he set up his laptop backstage, nabbing his printed pre-show list to start checking things off around the area. He was used to burying himself, but lately the soil felt suffocating. The show—which had turned out to be much bigger than anticipated—his classes, upcoming finals, and...y’know.

The whole superpower thing.

Back in September, when Jack was working a play and running the lighting board, he’d been alone on headset and bored. He hadn’t learned much about sound design yet, so of course he was messing around. The spotlights weren’t up on the catwalk yet, their PSM wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and no one’s voice was crackling over the headset. Jack was idly turning dials on the soundboard as a result. Because Jack—and he knew this—was an idiot, he turned one of the many colored dials way up to one side. He’d done it before to a few different dials and nothing had happened, so he figured ...Wrong. He figured really fucking wrong.

A piercing sound struck horizontally in his skull, like it's lightning-bolt points were stabbing through his brain and out of his ears. His hands lost feeling and he tried to cry out, eyes squeezed shut, though he could only emit a small gasp of agony. Honestly, Jack couldn’t feel much of anything with the blinding pain at the forefront of his nerve endings. He knew his knees were to the ground now, he sure as hell wasn’t standing with his legs heavy as lead. It wouldn’t end, it seemed, the pain still as powerful as it was initially. If his hands decided to be useful, they could switch off the dial, or take off his headset, but for now, they were set on feebly attempting to protect himself. For some reason, he’d stuck his hands out and away, like the pain source was right in front of him.

Then, the brain-burning feeling dropped away, and Jack carefully opened his eyes to find a slightly opaque blue forcefield surrounding him like a bubble. He shifted to one side, and the blue moved with him. He sat up, and it adjusted. Jack broke out into an astonished grin. How the fuck had he gotten a forcefield from a sound board? Not like he cared how he got them—all that mattered was that he could make a forcefield with his fucking hands and that was the coolest shit he’d ever seen.

So that was the whole ‘superpowers thing.’

Since that day, Jack had been experimenting with himself, hence why everything else was becoming even more heavy on Jack’s back. He couldn’t help but dedicate real time to figuring out this random new ability. Homework kind of took a backseat to mysterious abilities.

Jack would find himself a private area in between classes—secluded enough not to simply be found but reasonable enough to not look sketchy—and just concentrate. Envision the blue around himself as he held up his hands, eyes scrunched closed. Picture its shade, a stark and royal blue, but still able to see right through it.

“Jack.”

The pulse of something so close to being emitted from his palms.

“Jack.”

Feel the zap of energy between his ears, somewhere deep in his brain-

“Jack FUCKING Kelly! You in there?”

His gaze finally focused back in with a gasp. Someone was whapping his cheek.

Oh, god. Right. Shakespeare. Shit. He was still standing backstage, and was apparently staring at nothing.

“Hi Sarah, um,” Jack chuckled sheepishly to his stage manager. “I, uh...dissociation’s a bitch, huh?”

Sarah Jacobs frowned. “Technically true,” she muttered. “Just get back to it. Actors are called in twenty, so make sure your side’s all set up.”

“Thank you, twenty,” Jack sighed with a smile as her boots padded away. Thank God he was on her good side. Sarah was one of the toughest seniors Jack had ever come across. Her glare could probably cut straight through a freshman’s heart.

Jack had finished setting in only ten minutes, about to decide to help the other ASM when something blinked out above him and a loud “SHIIIIIT, Jesus…” called from the back of the house.

“Oh God, Spot, what happened?” Jack groaned, glancing up towards the lights as he came center stage. A whole line of them had gone out. Shit. “The hell did you do, man?”

“Whatever it is, you’re dealin’ with it!” Spot yelled back. “I’m going over cues in three minutes. You figure it out, Kelly.”

He was on Sarah’s good side. Not Spot’s, despite he and Jack being in the same grade and shared many classes together.

“Fucking….fine.” At least it would give him something to do.

Jack’s investigation led him outside, unfortunately. He shivered against the cold as he checked the power box, only understanding what about half of the switches meant. Conlon never gave him a damn break, did he.

A gust of wind blew through him, making him shake like a damn leaf in addition. Fuck Spot rights, Jack decided spitefully.

“Uh, hello- hi?”

Jack paused, turning around to see leaves swirling in the air still as well as a curly-haired kid staring at him with wide eyes. He looked freaked.

Jack’s lips pursed, hand coming up to gesture.

“Did you…” Jack pointed to the kid, then in the direction the leaves were blowing.

“Yeah,” the kid nodded hesitantly, “I was running-“

“You were running?” Jack scoffed, surprised. “And it created a damn windstorm?”

“Well, yeah, what’s it look like?” The kid shrugged, taking a few steps closer to Jack. “Maybe don’t...tell anyone, okay?”

He looked rather vulnerable, eyes shifting around their surroundings in search of other possible witnesses. A pang of sympathy struck Jack’s heart, he couldn’t help it.

“Sure thing, kiddo,” Jack smiled. “I’m Jack. You can trust me, I promise.”

Jack watched the guy breathe out a small sigh. “I’m Anthony,” he smiled slightly, sticking out his hand. “And thanks.”

Jack’s smile grew. “Nah, nah, I get it. Gotta keep your identity secret, and all’a that.” He shook the kid’s hand as Anthony let out a small laugh.

Something white and hot zig-zagged up Jack’s arm at the contact. He felt his whole body nearly vibrate, and then he blacked out. This really wasn’t Jack’s goddamn day. ——————

of course the first thing I write is gonna be a series, because I hate making life easy please tell me if you don’t wanna be on my tag list anymore! or if you wanna be on it! it’s been a few months heh :) just message me I don’t bite

TAG LIST:

@suddenly-im-respecsable @getchapapes @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @stopthe-presses @technically-whizzy @papesdontsellthemselves @starrysence @seasickdolphin @iamliterallyaghost @beep-beep-byler @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @accidentalnewsiesblog @thebroadwayaesthetic @spot-me50-papes @i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing @kingofsantafe @we-dont-sell-papes @eveningpaper @sure-as-a-star @godhatesjordan @awkwardstranger98 @ireallyloveiainyoungwow @big-potato-asshole @have-we-got-news-for-you @bxnesof92 @backgroundensemble @orollyitsracetrackhiggins @a-most-auspicious-erster @modern-race-owns-airpods @asphodelnerd @albert-eats-cookie-cake @certified-kingofnewyork

[krustywhore]

epilogue

here it is. sorry in advance. (also, tumblr doesn’t keep italics and stuff and i’m too lazy to add them back in, so here it is on ao3 with all that jazz)

tag list: @the-woild-is-my-what-now @wetcoffeejpg @disasterbisexualhere @landofgoodbye @queer-pippa @king-of-new-yoirk @hellomynameisjo @hufflepuffpride210 @turnitoffspot

Guilt isn't something real. It's not physical, you can't touch it or get rid of it, but it's always there. It's almost as if it's an entity of its own. Guilt is a force that eats you up from the inside, clawing away at every last piece of hope that you had until it's gone and the only thing left is the knowledge that there's always something else you could've done.

The moment that Jack and Race walked into the lodging house, everything was different. None of the other newsies dared to say a word. They just sat there staring as Spot set Skip down on Davey's lap before rushing to the two. He slid an arm around Race's waist, supporting the boy a little more as they walked into a small room off the main hallway. The two older boys gently maneuvered Race onto one of the beds, closing the door behind them.

Jack finally let himself breathe as he sat down on the old, wood floors. The cracking paint on the walls, the rumble of the old plumbing running throughout, and all the things that reminded him that, as completely insane as it felt, he was home. He was home and the strike was over. He was here and so was Race. They were home. He and Spot carefully made sure the boy was comfortable before he heard the door behind them creak open.

Spot turned around expectantly like any regular person would've.

Jack immediately dove in front of Race, keeping the boy tucked behind him. He shut his eyes fiercely as if prepping for impact, but nothing came.

"Jack?" That wasn't Snyder. That wasn't Snyder, or one of the bulls, or a guard, or anyone that would ever hurt him.

He cracked his eyes open just the slightest amount and Davey was standing terrified in the doorway. His chest felt tight just looking at the boy so afraid of him, but he couldn't help the relief that flooded over him.

"Fuck," he muttered, running his hands through his hair as he felt his heartbeat begin to slow. He stood, wobbling a little on tired legs, and collapsed into the taller boy's arms. "Dave I's so sorry."

His tears poured down his cheeks as he clung tightly for dear life. "I thought I'd never see you again, Jack," Davey's voice shook as he spoke into Jack's hair. "God, I thought I almost lost you."

Their heartbeats were beating perfectly in sync, Jack finally letting himself relax even for just a second.

"I don' wanna' talk, I don' wanna' talk 'bout it, Dave," he breathed, his voice wavering a little as the other ran his fingers up and down Jack's spine.

"That's okay," Davey quickly assured him. "I won't make you talk about it until you're ready. Don't even worry about it."

Jack let out a shaky exhale and tightened his grip on Davey's waist.

"Come on, Jackie, let's go sit down. We can talk about this later, but let's get you to bed for a little while-"

"No!" Jack interrupted, holding onto Davey tight enough to probably leave a bruise, but the boy didn't make any attempt to move him. "I...I can't leave, I-I can't leave 'im."

" 'S fine, Kelly. I got 'im, jus' take care a' ya'self," Spot spoke up, his normally steely gaze now just as afraid as Jack's, a strange sort of comfort to the boy. "Let Dave take care a' ya', I'll be sure ta' let ya' know if anythin' happens, I promise."

Jack hesitated for a moment before he nodded against Davey's chest and the latter led him upstairs to the rooftop.

The silence of the increasingly emptying room was deafening. Spot felt like he could finally relax a little, though, as he closed the door and sat down on the edge of the small cot. He gently ran his fingers through Race's hair, trying as hard as he could not to think about how high his fever felt against his hand.

He couldn't lose Race. He just couldn't.

He took a chance on that kid, really opened up to someone for the first time since he'd been living on the streets, and he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to do it again if anything happened to that boy. So he couldn't lose him. He couldn't watch the one person he truly loved slip through his fingers without ever being able to do anything.

So that was why he took up a small collection from the kids in Brooklyn, he made some bets at the Sheepshead, and even took an extra few papes every day so he could get that boy a proper doctor. A little voice in the back of his head was warning him that it was hopeless. It was screaming not to waste his time on something so doomed, but he didn't care. Besides, it was for Race. Even if it was for nothing, it wouldn't be wasted. Any effort he made would be worth it for every single day they got to spend together.

And as he sat in that room for days just talking to the boy and waiting for him to wake up, he began to realize things. Like all the years that he had taken for granted. He never once sat down and thought about what his life would be like without Race sneaking in through his bedroom window every night. He never imagined what it would be like to sell alone at the races, never once daring to risk his money on the bets. Hell, he never thought he'd lose Race to the refuge even for just a few days! They spent years hiding what was then only an innocent friendship with Race somehow finding the means to sneak back and forth between Manhattan and Brooklyn hundreds of times.

Race never got caught. Not doing anything. He stole Finch's slingshot? No one would ever know. He snagged one of Henry's combs? Hell if anyone else knew! The refuge never even seemed like a problem until all of a sudden there he was.

Spot spent that night and many others not leaving that tiny room for longer than it took to go to the bathroom or to grab Race a glass of water from the tap in the kitchen.

Two days had gone by when Race finally started getting antsy. Hell, he hadn't seen his friends in ages at that point! Jack and Davey had been paranoid, not letting anyone into the room without showering first, swearing that if there was any way to prevent any more germs from getting in there, they would take full advantage of it.

But then Race asked to see Crutchie.

They all knew he was going to eventually. Crutchie had even been asking Jack if he could ever since the boys got back, but it was just too risky at first.

Until they thought, maybe it wasn't.

After all that time, Crutchie would finally get to see the boy that literally almost died just on the off chance he would save him. He wasn't sure if he could even bring himself to do it.

It wasn't until December twelfth. The worst day.

Everyone had thought things were getting better. They all thought the refuge was behind them. The strike was over, the newsies throughout the city were living better than ever before, and it seemed like that meant Manhattan too.

But that was before Race seemed to stop getting better. Sure, anything had been better than that cramped little cell in the refuge and it did wonders at first just to be back in the lodging house, but soon enough, there wasn't much else that fresh air and a bed could fix.

And that was when Jack started working harder. He took at least an extra fifty papes every day just in an attempt to get some more food for the boy at the end of the day.

And then Spot stopped leaving Manhattan. He would sell some papes through Manhattan's circulation if Race was asleep, and if he wasn't, he refused to leave his side.

It was awful not knowing whether anything they were doing was making a difference at all.

Most of Manhattan's boys weren't even allowed into the room where they were keeping Race. That is, unless he specifically asked for them. They claimed it was too dangerous and they couldn't risk the chance of making his infection worse by bringing in any unnecessary germs, but Race knew the other side to it.

They didn't the boys to see him.

Race couldn't really see what he looked like, but he knew it had to be bad. He knew however bad it was, it was enough to scare the kids, and that was all the answer he needed.

So he played along and agreed when he needed to that letting any extra germs in was a risk no one was willing to take.

But that morning of December twelfth, Jack came into Race's small room to try and get some fluids into him. Spot, who had refused to leave the boy's side yet again, was still asleep against the wall by the bed, his hand in Race's.

Race sat up slightly as he heard the boy walk in, accepting Jack's glass of water and sipping it slowly. The lukewarm drink still felt like heaven on his dry throat. He had gone a few days without speaking more than a few instances, but every breath was like sandpaper in his throat and he could barely fill his lungs from what felt like a pile of bricks on his chest.

Jack looked like a trainwreck. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and that didn't help the darkening bags under his eyes either. He never smiled anymore, not real ones anyway. He was too busy driving himself insane with guilt.

"Jackie," Race rasped, grateful that the boy was still close enough so he wouldn't have to strain his voice much. Jack looked up and met his gaze, a mutual sadness behind their eyes for the other's state. "D'ya think Crutchie's ready ta' see me?"

Jack twisted up the corner of his lips almost like the signature smirks that always used to paint his face, but this wasn't the same. But he nodded, shrugging his shoulders.

"I know ya' wanna' talk to 'im, he jus'...he's tryna' take tha' blame for all a' this. He's jus' scared, 's all. I's sure if I told 'im you's real eager ta' see 'im, he'd give in," Jack spoke with something akin to fondness in his tone when he spoke about his friend, almost like he felt the same.

He did, Race knew he did. Jack just wouldn't let himself admit it, but he felt responsible. He tortured himself with that guilt just the same.

"Thanks," Race mumbled, a small smile creeping its way out in hopes of reassuring the other.

Jack nodded once more, bowing his head as he stood, carefully closing the door behind him.

As soon as Jack was gone, Race squeezed Spot's hand gently, watching as the boy began to stir. God, he really was nearly as bad as Jack. He instantly sat up on his knees, switching his position to be able to assess the other. The panic in his eyes was almost natural at that point as Spot quickly feared for the worst.

Race smiled weakly, reaching up as he cupped Spot's cheek in his palm. The latter chuckled awkwardly, still slightly uncomfortable by the affection.

"I's okay, Spotty. Ya' don't gotta' worry all tha' time, I ain't goin' nowhere," Race whispered, softening the other's expression. Spot covered Race's hand on his face, leading it over slightly as he quickly kissed the boy' palm.

"I ain't gonna' stop worryin'," he stated, Race nodding as he knew it was true. "But I'll try."

The other smiled, his baby blue eyes once again holding a sparkled the way they used to.

"Thank you," he mumbled, leaning over the edge of the bed as he bent his head forward onto Spot's shoulder. He tilted his chin just enough for his chapped lips to meet the other's tanned neck and he felt his pulse beating.

Spot ducked down, his fingers curling gently around the other's shirt collar as he found Race's lips and kissed him for real that time. It felt like it had been so long. So, so, long. The hand holding his shirt slid back up to hold the base of his neck and Race tossed an arm over Spot's shoulder. They couldn't stop smiling. It was like a trance had suddenly changed everything, even for just a moment.

For just a moment, Race didn't feel like he was breaking apart. He didn't feel like every touch on his body was a burn. For once since he had left, he felt like he could breathe right and his headache wasn't making him dizzy, this time it was just the giddiness in his heart that made him feel like he was floating.

"I love you," Race murmured breathlessly as they broke apart, leaning their foreheads together. "I nearly lost my head in tha' refuge  afta' ya' said that, Spotty. I...I thought I wouldn't eva' be able ta' say it back, but I love ya'. I love ya' so much."

Spot had tears in his eyes when he leaned back. His hands were shaking as he quickly reached for Race's.

"Wait, did I...did I do somethin'? Spot, baby, I's sorry, I didn't mean ta', I swear, I jus'-"

Spot kissed him again, holding the back of the boy's neck as Race's surprise slowly turned into pleasure and he relaxed, winding his arms around Spot's shoulders.

"Don't ya' dare apologize," Spot grumbled breathily, only pausing for a second before diving back in. "I love ya' too, you goddamn idiot."

Race chucked, freezing as he heard the door creak open. He pulled away, looking up towards the door as his face went beet red. Crutchie was standing in the doorway, a mix of relief and embarrassment on his equally-red face.

'H-hey Crutch," Race spoke up, his voice cracking and definitely not helping his embarrassment.

Crutchie smiled, shifting in place awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I, uh...I can go if ya' want," he suggested, an uncomfortable forced smile on his face.

"No! No, it's...it's okay, we's jus' sayin' goodbye, right Spotty?" Race nudged his boyfriend's shoulder as the latter only gave a small sigh of disappointment. Race glared a little, but Spot just stood, bending down to quickly kiss the other's forehead, and he reluctantly left. "Thanks for comin'. I, um...I didn't really know what ta' say. Still don't really."

Crutchie crossed the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside Race as he listened to his friend ramble.

"Oh, it's okay," Crutchie quickly assured him. "I didn't really...know what ta' say either, I guess."

They didn't speak for a moment. Crutchie couldn't speak as soon as he heard Race cough. He watched the boy clutch his hands to his chest as his throat rasped and Crutchie felt sick.

"I can't," he mumbled, leaning forward to bury his face in his hands. "I can't jus'...sit here."

As Crutchie stood, dragging himself over to the door, he looked back at Race and the heartbroken look on his face said it all.

"Char-"

"I fuckin' did this ta' you," he breathed, his hands gripping at his face and hair as tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. Race tried to stand up, immediately wobbling like a foal on his stick-thin legs. He hadn't tried to stand without help in ages. He should've known he'd be in a sheepish heap on the ground within a few seconds. Crutchie tossed his crutch to the side as he tried to catch the other, but, as he should definitely know after years of using his crutch, he too, found himself on the ground.

And then Race laughed. It was small and hoarse, but it was a laugh. Crutchie looked up from frantically trying to make sure the boy was okay and felt himself relax.

"Sorry," he mumbled, blushing a little as he brushed away the tears that had been spilling down his cheeks just moments ago.

Race smiled sheepishly, folding his legs underneath his body as he picked himself up off the floor. He opened his arms, gesturing for the younger boy to come closer as he pushed himself across the floor to hug the other tightly. Race winced at first at the tightening of his skin that stung his chest, but it soon began to fade into numbness and he let himself focus on making sure that his friend was okay.

"I's so sorry," Crutchie mumbled into Race's shoulder, the shakiness returning to his voice. Race forced out a weak chuckle as he curled his arm up around the boy, ruffling his hair a little. "I's so sorry, this is all my fault, I...I should'a been tha' one in there, not you's. We don't...we don't trade lives."

Race felt his heart fall through his chest as it shattered on the floor.

"W-we don't trade lives for each other," Crutchie shuddered, gripping onto the back of Race's shirt in tight fistfuls. "Y-ya' can't give ya'self up jus' for me, I don'-"

"Crutch, I ain't tradin' my life for anythin'," Race interrupted. His eyes were tried and puffy, but stern. Not a hint of anything but honesty. "I wasn't gonna' let ya' in there, I know it ain't a place you's eva' gonna' get out of, so's I figured I'd give it a shot. Ya' know me, I's too stubborn ta' let 'em keep me locked up for long. It's jus' a matter a' days b'fore I bust outta' this joint too."

Crutchie giggled a little, redness filling his cheeks. He let his smile stay that time as Race coughed again, this time a little harsher, but Crutchie tried not to worry as much. Race was still there. he was still the annoying asshole who wouldn't let anyone keep him cooped up for long and before Crutchie could even blink, he'd be back on the streets jogging over to Brooklyn like nothing ever happened. He knew it. At the time felt so real he could see it when he shut his eyes.

So he did it again.

That night, just before the sun went down, Crutchie looked up from his book. With more convincing than the boys would like to admit, Crutchie was able to get them to agree to let him keep watch that night. He was almost certain Spot was probably still sitting right outside the door and Jack was probably sitting in the common room right next door with his ear to the wall, but he didn't care. It had only been about half an hour since Crutchie came back, but he was so much more relaxed than when he first showed up. Race was just drifting in and out of sleep, coughing every one in a while, and then going back to bed.

He never could've seen it coming. It didn't matter how many times Davey told him it wasn't his fault, or that he couldn't have known something was up, but he couldn't stop thinking about all the things he missed.

It had been less than half an hour when Race started coughing and didn't stop. After a few coughs, he closed his book, rolling over onto his side.

"Race? You okay?" He tried not to let the increasing worry show in his voice, but he could tell it was plastered all over his face as soon as Race rolled over onto his back and looked up at the other. "Oh shit, okay, j-jus' hold on a second, I's gonna' go get Jack, jus' s-stay right 'ere." Crutchie rambled, scrambling to his feet as he collected his crutch and practically flew out the door.

Just outside the door, as they both suspected, was Spot. He dashed in right behind Crutchie as he slid to his knees, immediately looking everywhere but Race's face.

"H-hey baby," he whispered, trying to choke back the panic in his voice as his throat went dry. God, his heart was going to beat right out of his chest if he didn't find some way to fix this. "It's gonna' be okay, I promise. I won't let anythin' happen to ya', I swear. Not ever again."

Race smiled a little, mainly just for Spot's sake, but it was there. He couldn't deny that the way Spot took Race's hand and held it to his own chest to prove he was there made him feel just a little bit better. Race opened his mouth to speak, a dry, raspy sound coming out instead as Spot quickly reached over to run his thumb over the boy's lips.

"Shh, don't hurt ya'self, Tony. It ain't worth it, jus' save it for later," he teased at the end, a little watery smile covering up the little devilish, self-conscious voice in his head telling him there wasn't going to be a 'later'. He blocked it out. He had to.

So Race didn't speak, he just pulled his hand away from where it held Spot's against the latter's chest, bringing it to his lips and kissing it softly where their fingers wound together. As he lifted their hands away, he closed his eyes softly for just a moment, taking a couple slow breaths as if he had the wind knocked out of him. His shaky inhales were painful, it was written all over his face, but he still held it back and didn't let it show.

That made all the difference after Jack stumbled in the door, catching himself from falling on the doorframe. It was like slow motion as Jack's confused look shattered into horror. He clutched his mouth, leaning his head into the doorframe, a few seconds of hesitation, possibly disbelief, crossing his mind before he opened his eyes again and nothing had changed. Not a dream. No, not even a nightmare.

"J-Jack?" Race spoke up, looking over Spot's shoulder as the mentioned boy moved to kneel beside Spot.

"Yeah, kid. I's right here," he spoke, forcing his lips to curl up, but not even coming close to meeting his eyes. "I's right 'ere, jus' like I's been every step a' the way. I ain't goin' nowhere, kid."

Race managed a small smile before coughing again, this time too fast to grab a scrap of the old rags and simply coughing into his hands instead. Nothing could ever prepare the boys in that room for the look on Race's face when he pulled away his hand and blood came dripping through his fingers and dribbling down his chin. He looked dizzy, like the thought of seeing something so horrific had finally sunk it, but Spot quickly climbed around on top of the bed, seating himself right beside Race as he sat up against the wall.

"C'mon Tony, ya' gotta' sit up, jus' come 'ere n' sit wit' me," he murmured, sliding his hands under Race's shoulders and pulling him back from behind, holding him tight against his chest. Spot wasn't sure if Race could feel his heartbeat pounding against his back, but it was there, searing and throbbing and absolutely fucking terrified. "That's it, you's okay, I got ya'."

Race winced a little as he finally reached a comfortable position, but he knew he would rather be curled up with Spot than alone in that claustrophobic little room drowning in his own blood.

"J-J-Jack?" He croaked, the aforementioned boy taking one of his hands as soon as he spoke.

"Right 'ere, kid," Jack sighed, trying to keep the fear out of his voice to the best of his ability.

"I don't wanna g-go," he cried, his eyes wide and full of tears as Jack froze under his gaze. "I...I's scared, Jack."

Spot's arms tightened around his boyfriend as he leaned forward, kissing the crook of the boy's neck. There was a small spot on Race's shirt where the other's tears had fallen.

Jack couldn't move. His mind was spinning in circles and everything hurt. He couldn't. He couldn't just...die.

He had promised. Jack made a promise when he took over Manhattan that he would protect those kids and now...now he had no idea what to do anymore. He wasn't sure if he was still crying, he couldn't feel anything, just the dizziness in his head and the knife that felt like it was twisting right into his heart.

Spot whispered something into Race's ear that only seemed to make things worse. Jack would've been the first to go after him, but for once, he couldn't bring himself to move.

"Everythin's gonna' be fine," Spot rambled, almost as if he was trying to convince himself, rather than Race. "I ain't gonna' let anythin' happen to ya', don't ya' know that? I ain't gonna' let you go, ya' should know by now, I ain't good at giving up, Tony."

Race smiled weakly, a slight tilt of his head giving him space to bury his face into Spot's neck, rolling onto his side and giving Jack a full view of the thing that was causing this whole mess. Right there, in the middle of Race's chest, was a spot of blood seeping through the front of his shirt and dripping slowly down through the holes in the fabric. Jack felt sick.

"I-I-I's so s-sorry," he shuddered, surprising himself that he was actually able to form words. Race looked up, his tired blue eyes meeting Jack's teary brown ones and not moving even for a second.

Race didn't move, instead, he just reached out a hand and grabbing onto Jack's. He was shaking so much Jack wasn't sure he was even consciously moving, but the second he could, he held tighter than he thought possible.

"J-Jackie, I ain't m-mad at ya'," Race whispered, Jack shaking his head, his hand covering his mouth as he tried to get himself to breathe easier. "I-I ain't mad at all, jus'...jus' d-don't leave m-me."

Jack shook his head again, firmer this time as he sniffled, ducking his head as he lifted their conjoined hands to his forehead. "I can't lose ya', kid. I ain't goin' anywhere, but you gotta' promise me ya' won't go neither."

Race laughed, a tiny, raspy, heartbroken laugh, and Jack blocked out every other sound. "Jack, ya' know I c-can't do that."

The latter sniffled, nodding slowly as he took shaky breaths.

"Y-yeah...," he sighed, his voice cracking as he forced out a smile without an ounce of believability.

They could've sat like that for hours with Spot holding Race tightly as he whispered quiet sweet-nothings in his ear and Jack sat beside the bed holding onto his hand and refusing to let himself think about anything else. It was almost so perfect. It was almost as if nothing earth-shatteringly awful was happening, but then he heard the screaming.

"Jack! Jack Kelly I know you's in there, c'mon! Let me in! Kelly, I swear ta' god, let me see Race! I's done waitin', let me in for fuck's sake!"

Race would recognize that voice anywhere.

"A-Albert?" His soft whisper was almost inaudible, but it was enough to raise Jack to the door and get him to open up.

And, speak of the devil, there he was. Albert stood at the door, Skip standing beside him leading him over. She was frustrated, it was written all over her face, but she didn't falter when Jack opened the door looking like someone who'd already been to hell and back.

"I ain't allowed in, I's sure," Skip sighed, almost as if she just wanted to say it to call Jack out. He glanced over his shoulder, but shook his head as he turned back to her. "Sorry, kiddo. I jus'...I don't want ya' ta' see this," he sighed, his voice heavier as Skip nodded, hugging him quickly before turning away.

"Tell 'im I miss 'im," she mumbled before turning away without another word. Jack looked up, his eyes meeting Alberts as the red-haired boy who always seemed to be sporting the palest skin of the group somehow seemed to have gone even paler. His face looked like he'd seen a ghost and Jack ran a hand through his hair, preparing himself before he opened the door for the boy, knowing that even if he didn't like what he saw, Albert didn't care.

"Be careful. I...I know I don't gotta' tell ya' not ta' say anythin' too scary, but he's terrified, Al. Jus' be there for 'im," Jack spoke, the other sniffling as he stepped inside.

"Oh god...," Albert whispered, Jack turning around as he shut the door behind them and Albert shakily stumbled into the place Jack had just been sitting. "Oh god, oh god, oh my fucking god, Race."

"Al-"

"No!" He snapped, sinking to his knees beside his best friend, taking his hand just like Jack had just been doing. "N-no...ya' don't get ta' tell me how ta' do this, Jack. Not this time. I's done listening ta' you's, not when this is what comes from it."

Race looked between Jack and Albert, shrinking away from both as he moved to sit closer to Spot. He couldn't bring himself to deal with his friends fighting, especially not over him.

"Allie, c'mon, it...it ain't w-worth it," he mumbled, but Albert wasn't having it.

"No, ya' know what? No, I's done 'ere. I paid for a week 'ere n' as soon as tha' weeks done, I's out. I got a fam'ly I could stay wit', n' I's been stayin' 'ere for so long 'cause I thought I had a fam'ly 'ere too, but from everythin' I know, a fam'ly wouldn't stand for one a' they's own stuck on his fucking death bed 'cause you thought we needed a few extra pennies," Albert cried, tears spilling down his cheeks as he glared at Jack, the latter slowly backing away as he looked back and forth between Albert and Race. "I don't care what ya' think ya' could or couldn't do ta' stop it. You's still tha' one that got us all inta' this mess, n' you's always gonna' be tha' one responsible!"

The silence that followed Albert's outburst was nearly deafening.

Jack stood there frozen for ages before he simply nodded, ducked his head, and turned towards the door.

"Jack," Race spoke up, his voice breaking as the former turned back around, looking at Race, now shifting away from both Spot and Albert. "Jack, y-you promised."

He froze, his hand shaking right above the doorknob. He promised. God, he had never wanted to keep a promise less in his life, but...he would do it if it was what Race wanted.

"Jackie, ya' s-said ya' w-w-wouldn't leave m-me," he rasped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he finished, a smeared line of blood now brushed from his lip and down to his chin. Jack felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. He turned, not meeting Albert's eyes as he slid down on the end of the bed, facing the three others.

"I ain't goin' nowhere, kid. B'sides, you's ain't allowed no go nowhere either," he supplied, smirking half-heartedly.

Race didn't respond, he simply dove back into Spot's shoulder, his shoulders shaking heavily as he coughed, the other running his hands up and down the boy's back. Race pulled away, tears pouring down his cheeks so quickly they mixed with the blood running from his lips. He frantically tried to rub as much of it off as he could, the red stains now covering the front of his shirt and his hands, not to mention the boy behind him.

"S-s-stop," he whispered, his voice wavering as if he was dizzy, still not looking up at anything.

"Race-"

"A-Albie, ya' g-g-gotta' g-get outta' 'ere," he slurred, looking up as he met the boy's eyes. Albert had angry tears brewing in his eyes as the horror took over his expression. "P-please."

"Wait, what? Race, what tha' hell? I can't jus' leave ya' here!" He grabbed for one of Race's hands, but the latter pulled away, grabbing at Jack instead. He took a deep breath, wiping the corner of his mouth once more before he spoke.

"Al, y-you's my b-b-best friend. Ya' know t-that, b-b-but I c-can't have ya' b-b-blamin' Jack. He...h-he's tha' only one that's b-b-b-been wit' me t-through this whole m-m-mess. I c-can't do this w-without 'im," he cried softly, his voice barely audible and so raspy it sounded painful just to listen to. "Albie, ya' g-gotta' let us d-d-do this. I love ya' s-so much, b-b-but I c-can't h-have ya' in 'ere."

The mere seconds between that last word and the moment Albert moved to stand up could've been hours if you asked any of the boys. But he stood anyway, leaning over as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders, gripping the boy so tightly the others were afraid he might break, but Race did the same and they stayed like that for a moment before they finally began to move.

"I really do love' ya, brother," Albert spoke sadly, the tears in his eyes now beginning to slowly fall. "I-I's so sorry."

"I k-know ya' d-do," Race smiled, his eyes genuinely crinkling at the corners. "D-don't touch any a' my f-fuckin' cigars, a-asshole."

And Albert finally smiled as he stood, walking right up to the door before he stopped, balanced on the balls of his feet and he turned his head over his shoulder, a watery smile on his face.

"No promises," he whispered, both of their smiles fading the moment he stepped out the door.

So Race leaned back against Spot, wheezing a little like he was out of breath.

"Kelly," Spot started, absentmindedly weaving his fingers through Race's hair as he caught Jack's attention. "Get 'im some water or somethin'."

Yeah, Jack could see it in his eyes that Spot wanted a couple minutes alone, and yeah, he could hear it in his voice that as soon as Jack left the room he would break, but he stood anyway and nodded, not saying a word as he left. He took one look back at Race to make sure he was alright with the boy stepping out for a second, but he was way too distracted by Spot and frankly, getting his attention was a situation he definitely didn't want to be in.

"Tony?" Spot's voice was shy and soft as his breath nipped the back of Race's neck. He turned his head, looking up at the boy with his arms around him. A small smile appeared as their eyes finally met. "You doin' okay right now?"

Race shrugged, curling himself up a little as he looked away, resting his head under Spot's chin.

"C'mon, T, ya' gotta' help me out 'ere. I ain't goin' anywhere, I's here ta' help ya'. I gotta' know what's wrong so's I can fix it, okay baby?" He was so soft, so gentle, it was no wonder he wanted Jack to leave first. "Please, Tony. There's gotta' be somethin' I can do ta' fix this."

Race just tightened his arms around Spot's middle, shaking his head against the other's chest.

"Race, baby, I...I ain't jus' gonna' give up on this, you...you know I can't do that," he spoke, his voice wavering like it was seconds away from breaking.

"J-jus' hold m-m-me...please," Race mumbled, not really sure if it was even loud enough for Spot to hear, but it seemed to work because Spot just pulled him closer and ran his fingers through his hair, just like he always did whenever they were lucky enough to be alone. The silence was nice. It seemed like they were constantly slipping in and out of silence in that room, but it was nice. It was comforting the way they never needed to say anything, they were just perfectly happy laying there together.

That is, until things really took a turn for the worst.

Race coughed. Just once, nothing they hadn't all seen before, but then it happened again. And again. And again, and again, and again until he couldn't stop and there was blood all over his hands and dripping from his lips and he was crying and screaming with pain until Jack came running back. That moment as Jack ran in the door and Spot looked up at him with his boyfriend screaming in his arms, they knew

They were in the endgame now.

Everything was moving in slow motion. Spot's hands gently running up and down Race's back as he coughed, Jack's footsteps as he moved to crouch back down beside the bed, even Race's own tears seemed to be falling slowly as they all carefully made sure not to scare the boy further.

"H-hey, kid," Jack spoke, placing a hand on Race's knee. He was going to put on a brave face. He was going to put on a brave face and make sure that kid knew he wasn't alone and he was going to do it no matter what was about to happen. He owed the kid that much, at least. "You...you feelin' okay right now? Ya' know, like...ya' pillows n' shit?"

Race chuckled and both of the other boys had to admit it was nice. Just seeing another genuine smile was really, really nice. He nodded and Spot slowly kissed the side of his head, where his forehead met his hair and Race leaned back against him.

"Good ta' know I's makin' a good pillow, T," Spot said, pretending nothing happened when his voice broke as Race interrupted his sentence to cough his lungs out again into the crook of his elbow. He leaned back as he finished, his face plastered with pure exhaustion. No one should look like that after just coughing. His eyelids were drooping and his cheeks were so flushed it reminded Spot of the first moment after Race kissed him for the first time and-

No. Nope, he wouldn't ruin the best day of his life by thinking about it during the worst. No way.

"Jack?" Race asked, making Jack's heart jump into his throat for about the fiftieth time that day. "A-am...am I gonna' d-d-die?"

And there it was. The painful truth none of them had let themselves accept until that very moment. He said it. He said exactly what they were all thinking and that made it real because if Race felt it too...then they weren't just worried for nothing. So Jack ruffled his hair and pulled him in tight against his chest. Just in case he didn't get to do it again. Just in case.

"Don't worry 'bout anythin', kid," he spoke softly, nodding to Spot who had finally, after that entire ordeal, let his tears fall. Jack knew he had been avoiding the exact same thought. "That 'aint anythin' you's gotta' worry 'bout, I promise. Me n' Spotty, we's gonna' worry 'bout that, you-...you jus' try ta' relax, yeah? Think ya' can do that, Racer?"

A shrug and a small nod between wheezes and coughs was enough of an answer to Jack and it wasn't like they would get more even if they wanted it. Race laid almost fully on Spot, resting his head against the boy's chest with an arm wrapped around his middle and the other gripping the front of Spot's shirt tightly. They could both tell he was in pain just from the way he was laying. He didn't want to say anything, Race literally never did, but this was apparently no different. Always one for pride, Race would swallow his own and wouldn't let a soul know he was anything but perfectly fine. There was no reason to hide it anymore, but old habits die hard and that was definitely a very old habit.

"H-hey, S-S-Sean?" He stammered as he spoke, not even lifting his head from off the boy's chest.

"Hmm?"

"I's s-so t-t-tired," he whined, a hint of a yawn sneaking into the end of his words.

Fuck.

Spot looked at Jack and Jack looked at Spot and they both knew exactly what the other was thinking and hell no. Nope. No. No way.

"Y-yeah?" God, he tried so hard to stop the tears from falling as he started to rock back and forth just a little, keeping his love securely wrapped in his arms. "W-well, I think ya' can h-hold on a little longer for me, Tony. B'esides, it-it ain't even m-midnight yet."

Race nodded, rubbing his eyes and keeping them open a little longer.

"R-right," he breathed, not looking at either of the boys as if he was simply thinking out loud. "I get t-ta' see Sean at m-m-midnight, d-did ya' know t-that, Jackie?"

Shit. Okay, delusions kicking in was definitely not a good sign.

"O-oh, yeah? That's funny, because I think he got 'ere a little early, ain't that right, Spotty?"

Spot bent his head in, kissing the boy's cheek as Race beamed.

"Y-you...you're 'ere already!" He grinned as far as he could, his eyes lighting up and his trembling hands reaching up to cup Spot's face. "I m-missed ya'."

Spot took one of Race's hands and dragged it over to his lips, kissing the inside of the boy's palm. Jack honestly felt like he was intruding a little, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. Not now, not ever again.

"I missed ya' too, baby," he mumbled against Race's hand, dipping his head and letting himself be held for once. "B-but it's okay, I's here now, yeah? We's got plenty a' time now."

But Race shook his head. "I...I-I's still so t-t-tired."

Jack lifted himself off his knees to sit on the edge of the bed, accepting as Race reached for one of Jack's hands. He ran his thumb over the now fading bruises that remained on the boy's knuckles from their stay in the refuge. God, it seemed like so long ago now. He honestly thought things couldn't get any worse after that.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

"Jackie, you's a g-good big b-brother," he spoke, smiling as Jack quickly brushed away a few tears that fell. Maybe Jack smiled back because he didn't believe it, or maybe he smiled back because just seeing Race's undeniably contagious smile was rubbing off on him, or maybe he smiled because deep, deep down under layers and layers of self-doubt and constantly questioning if he did enough for his kids, he knew they all turned out alright. Some of them, so much more than just 'alright'.

"Thanks, kid," he sighed, reaching up to ruffle Race's hair just a little. "You's a pretty good little brother too."

And that seemed to do it. Pleased with his affirmation, he turned his head back up to Spot and laid as comfortably as he could in his arms.

"H-hey Sean?" He asked, the tiniest flush of color rising to his pale cheeks. "C-can...can I have a k-kiss g-g-goodnight?"

Spot nodded, biting his lip and shutting his eyes tight as Jack watched tears roll off his cheeks. He looked back down as Race's shaking hands reached up to gently brush away his tears.

" 'Course," he whispered, taking Race's face in his own hands. Even through it all, his eyes were still that beautiful baby blue that made Spot fall in love from the moment he first saw them. He couldn't even imagine what he would do if he never saw them again. His boy and his beautiful, beautiful face. His smile and how it spread across his face when he laughed, creating dimples in his cheeks and crinkles in the corners of his eyes, and...before he could make himself think of all the things he wanted to see right then more than anything, he just kissed him and prayed it would never end.

"Love you," Race mumbled as they slowly pulled away, a small yawn following as he kept his eyes shut for just a few extra seconds before he opened them again.

"I love ya' too, sweetheart," he spoke against the boy's lips, pecking them once again as he slipped a hand into Race's hair, wrapping his fingers around the boy's curls. "So, so much."

"Good...g-good, that's...that's r-real nice Spotty," he rambled, sinking into the boy's embrace. "I...I's gonna' take a n-nap, 's that o-okay?"

Silence. Purely terrifying silence. The kind that feels like if someone breaks it, the whole world will shatter into millions of pieces. The kind that, once it starts, it feels like it's never going to end. Even if you don't want it to. And Spot and Jack? God, they never wanted it to end.

"Y-yeah baby, if you's sure," Spot spoke, his voice shaking with every word.

"Y-yeah, I...I's sure," he yawned, curling around Spot. "A-actually, no."

Jack chuckled, a watery sniffle to follow it and he wrapped both his hands around one of Race's own. "Take ya' time, kid."

"N-no, I, uh, I w-wanna say s-somethin'," he mumbled. "J-Jack, I...I wanna t-tell ya' s-somethin'."

"Go for it, Racer."

"J-Jackie, don't b-beat ya'self up, p-p-please," he sighed. One look up at the other and Jack Kelly would never forget the look on his face. "I k-know you's g-g-gonna' feel like...like it's ya' f-fault, but I...I d-don't care 'bout w-who s-started tha' strike, I j-jus' hope ya' let ya'self g-g-get over this."

Jack shrugged, leaning his head against the wrapped bundle of their hands.

"P-please?"

"Sure thing, Tones," Jack smirked, the smile not even coming close to meeting his eyes.

"Heh," Race chuckled. "Y-ya' 'aint ever c-called me that b-b'fore."

"Ya' like it?" Race smiled and Jack took that as a little victory.

"Y-yeah...yeah t-tha's...," he trailed off, rubbing his eyes with his free hand before wrapping it around spot's shoulders and burying his face in his neck. "Hey, S-Spotty, t-thanks for n-not soakin' m-m-me the first t-time I k-k-kissed ya'."

Even Jack could laugh a little at that.

"Me too, babe," he smiled. "H-hey, how's about ya' relax a little, yeah? I know how much ya' love ta' talk, but I don't want ya' hurtin' ya'self, Tony."

Race shrugged, coughing a few times into his palms before he swung his legs off the edge of the bed, grabbing Jack's shoulders for stability as the other two freaked out.

"Race? Race, kid, c'mon ya' gotta' stop, jus' sit back down n' we's gonna' relax jus' like Conlon was sayin'," Jack spoke, quickly opposing the boy's force and trying to law him back down.

"I-I's fine, jus'...jus' let m-me...," Race trailed off, his grip faltering on Jack's shoulders as he let his chin fall against his chest and he hung his head in exhaustion, wheezing breaths filling the stressful silence. Jack let go with one hand, letting Spot catch Race from behind as he reached for the boy's face to lift his gaze.

Race shrugged himself away from the boys' efforts, sinking his head into his hands as he groaned meekly, a pained whine slipping from his lips as his breaths became labored.

"Kid, c'mon ya' gotta' sit up, it ain't good for ya', Racer," Jack mumbled, replacing his arm around Race's shoulders and quickly maneuvering him back to lay as flat as he could against Spot's chest.

Race's incoherent mumbling continued, making his slow, disoriented blinking slightly more worrying. He just looked dizzy.

"J-Jack?" He slurred, not meeting the former's gaze as his eyes fluttered sluggishly. "Jack, Jack, J-Jack, Jack."

The almost rhythmical chanting of the boy's dazed rambles shouldn't have meant anything to Jack, but he couldn't help but feel the sick stiffing in his gut that kept pleading for him to do something, to help him, to make it stop.

"Ya' gotta' focus for me, Ant. I can't make it stop if ya' don't try ta' work with me 'ere," Jack spoke, reaching for a glass of water beside the bed. Race shook his head when he saw it. He placed a hand on his own chest, his breathing dry and painful and confusing Jack for a moment before... "No. No, c'mon, kid, I ain't givin' up, ya' can't give up on me, I cant-"

He cried, finally letting the tears that had been brewing in his eyes burst as one sob made him grab for Race's hand.

"Tony, listen ta' me," Spot whispered softly from behind him. He kissed the underside of Race's jaw gently before continuing. "I know it hurts. I know it's so hard, n' I would take it myself in a heartbeat if I could, but ya' gotta' hold on. I can't lose you, T."

Race inhaled sharply, a small stream of blood trickling out from the corner of his mouth. He looked exhausted. Spot wasn't even sure if he'd understood what he was saying, but he needed to say it.

"I-I...I c-can't, Sean," he rasped, so quietly Jack didn't even hear more than breath, but Spot sure seemed to know what he said. He kissed Race on the forehead, rubbing circles on the boy's hollow cheeks as he started to slowly rock back and forth.

"Please," his voice cracked, his pleas falling silent as Race ignored his words and simply laid back against him.

Jack had a million things circling through his head that he wanted more than anything to be able to say. Besides, how do you even begin to pick your last words to someone when there's so much left unsaid? His head was throbbing and his ears were ringing and he couldn't tell if he was even speaking or not, but he needed that boy to know. He needed him to know everything.

And then it ended. Pleas fell on deaf ears and hands reached for limp ones and racing heartbeats met halted ones. His eyes were closed softly and it hit Jack like a ton of bricks as he stared at the boy laid in his friend's arms. They wouldn't open again. His lips were parted so slightly that one look at them felt wrong. Those lips always had a cigar between them and on the off chance that they didn't, they were spouting insults and jokes left and right but...not anymore. He couldn't look at Spot, he didn't want to see his face. He could see the tears falling off his cheeks and onto Race's but, he couldn't look at his face. If he looked at Spot's face, he'd see his own in it. Race didn't know. God, he had so many things left to say and now he lost his chance. 

How Jack had gone almost three years of leading Manhattan without anything like this. He had somehow found a way to keep his entire family of brothers and sisters safe for nearly three years to the point where he almost felt untouchable. It got to the point where he didn't even worry. He dove right into the strike without thinking twice about what could come out of it. It just didn't seem like an option. Never once in the strike did he think of the refuge, or his kids getting hurt, and not once did he think something like...this would ever happen. All throughout their time at the refuge, Jack wouldn't let himself believe anything could get any worse. When the strike rally took a turn for the worse, he thought that was as bad as it could get. When he watched the bulls go after Crutchie, he didn't think it could get any worse. When he immediately got caught up in his own fight, barely holding his own against Snyder's goons, he still thought that was as bad as things could get. Alone in the refuge? Nope, it got worse the moment Race got tossed in there with him. With every passing day in that absolute hell-hole, he told himself that that was the worst of it. It couldn't get worse than that. But it always did. It got worse every single day without fail.

Now here they were.

And Spot.

All those years ago when he ran away from his family after his father died, he didn't even think he had a future. He just wanted to get out. To get away from his mother and away from his house full of memories of his dad, and he never expected for some kid just a few years older than him to ask him if he needed a place to stay and actually give him a home and a job. He thought he was untouchable simply because no one dared to get close enough to him to do it. Until Race. Antonio "Racetrack" Higgins was an asshole with a quick wit, luck too precise for his own good, and probably the most addicting smile Spot had ever seen. One joking insult Spot had tossed his way on Race's first day selling at the Sheepshead and the smile that followed meant Spot was doomed. He never had a chance. In all honesty, he never had a chance against Race. From the moment Jack Kelly brought him over to Brooklyn and around the rest of the city to formally arrange his second-in-command, making sure they all knew who to go to if anything were to happen to Jack.

They never once planned what they would do if something happened to Race.

Spot took one look at him as he shook that boy's hand and he decided somewhere deep within his fortress of walls that he didn't want to let go. He decided that day and no matter how hard he tried, it never seemed to go away. He was glad it didn't. God, he wouldn't give that up for all the time in the world. It was selfish, he knew it, but he would rather have a short time than no time if it meant they could be together. He didn't even know what he would do now. He couldn't just go back to Brooklyn like nothing ever happened. For the rest of his life, he'd be carrying that on his shoulders, no matter what. But he had a job to do.

How were they all even supposed to do that now? Jack had to go out there and tell all of them their brother was gone, Spot had to go back to Brooklyn and pretend "that kid from Manhattan" wasn't the love of his life that he held in his arms as he died.

Manhattan would have to go out there and clean up the mess of the strike like it wasn't the worst decision they had ever made. Jack would have to go out that door and tell Skip that the lodging house wasn't always like this. That she just lost another brother and it hadn't even been a month since they'd come home.

Jack had to tell Crutchie the boy who saved his life had just lost his own.

Jack had to tell Davey their little 'crusade' had its first casualty.

Jack had to tell Albert his best friend was gone and there was nothing left to do.

Jack had to tell the whole house that...by the terms of the city's newsies they had to replace him already.

Jack had to tell them all that their friend was dead and it was his fault and he was terrified and in pain and Jack didn't do anything to stop it and he lost a kid oh my god he lost a kid.

Manhattan was crumbling to the ground from inside one tiny room. And no one knew but the remaining two of a trio that once ruled the whole world, whether the world knew it or not. They were kings in a world full of helpless subjects, terrified of the ones who did not hesitate to show their power. There was no hesitation when it came to homeless kids trying to keep themselves and their families alive when they got in the way of someone more important. Someone who doesn't know what it's like to find your own family. To pick up your sisters and brothers off the ground all tell them you'll make it through together. To find someone who's willing to put their own life before yours without a moment of hesitation. When someone knows there's no reason to do something for you, but they do it anyway because you're family and family doesn't care about the consequences of sacrifices.

When hesitation was gone, that was how they found their family. When Jack and Davey didn't hesitate to go on strike on the off chance that their families might not starve to death. When the kids didn't hesitate to jump into the fight the moment the bulls laid a hand on one of their own. When Race didn't hesitate for a second to step in and take Crutchie's place in the refuge because even though he knew he might not have much time, however little he had, Crutchie had less and that was always a sacrifice he was willing to make.

They didn't know what to do. How could they? It wasn't like they wanted to think about it and they definitely didn't have a plan, but they had to do something. They couldn't sit around because the longer they just sat around, the longer Jack let the guilt eat him alive, and the longer Spot cursed himself for not joining the strike before it was too late.

They were safe to pretend it was all a dream in that little room. As long as they didn't look and kept their heads in their hands and let their own sobs drown out any sounds around them, then they were fine. The moment they stepped out that door, they were not.

When they stepped out that door, it was hell. They were out, they were vulnerable, and it was real. They couldn't make it real. Jack knew exactly what his boys would say the moment he stepped out that door because they would see exactly what had happened written all over his face and they wouldn't be able to hide it for a second.

Or maybe they wouldn't. Maybe they'd be just as broken as the two and maybe they would understand. Maybe they would hug him and tell him it was okay when they all knew it wasn't and they wouldn't let that guilt tear him up from the inside out.

Because their family grew together, slowly but surely, and when they broke, they all broke together.

[ask-the-harlem-newsies]

25 and 30 for everyone please

25: Insecurities and 30: Something they treasure 

*All the newsies seem to tense up at the first question*Doc: I’ll start, I guess. Uh- I worry sometimes that I dont pass as guy well enough. Cause Im a guy, but my body isnt an’ I don’t want people thinkin’ Im a girl. And somethin’ I treasure? Bein’ able to be me, an’ bein’ lucky enough to have support. Mellow: *crosses her arms* I dont like people seein’ my drawin’s cause I think they’re crap. Or when people think Im we- I cant look after myself. *she grumbles*  An’ I treasure when I win a fight, ‘specially if I get money for it.

Beans: I- uh. I ‘ave dis thin’ where I go from real loud to real quiet, an’ sometimes Ise worried that people f’rget tha’ Im ‘ere. I really like bein’ with you folks. *he glances at Mellow* Even when Mel’s tryna kill me. *he laughs as a pillow hits him in the head*Booker: I dont like my legs. They’re too… splotchy. They have all these weird shapes on them and I just- I really dont like them. Thats why I wear long pants because I dont like people seeing them.*he fiddles with some loose thread on his shirt.* And I treasure… these people. *he looks around the room* My family- I dont know where I’d be without them. *he laughs* That’s really- mushy and gross I know. But its true. I- Whos next? Someone talk so I can stop talking-Marcus: I dont like using the wrong words in the wrong places. Like instedd- instead of ‘were,’ I accidentally use ‘was’ and- I know plenty of people here use words in the wrong order or in the wrong way and I just… I was kinda- kind of- *he clears his throat* I was… taught- not to use words in the wrong order. and everytime I do it just- makes me feel- not okay. *he hides his hands, which are shaking* I treasure everyone who stops and buys a pape..r- paper- from me because more money means I can keep sleeping under a roof. Benny:  I w’rry my voice is too ‘igh, that I don’ sound like a fella, yanno? ‘Cause I gotta a real ‘igh voice and I don’- I ‘ate it. I ‘ate my voice. Its jus’- its too damn high an’ girly an’ puttin’ on a voice hurts  an’ I don’ know how ta- not sound like a goil. *he pauses, closing his eyes and breathing in, and then out* Im real fond of all-a-yall for helpin’ me an’ my brudders out, ‘specially wid me bein’ kinda useless for the first couple-a weeks. I jus’- thanks.  Sketch: *fiddling with a spoon* I dont like my nose, its crooked an’ wonky an’ weird lookin’. I like havin’ a place to stay, food to eat most of the time, an’ a warm- well, ‘part from the hole in the roof- *she laughs* -a warm place to sleep. An’ even though I keep company with a bunch a fleabags, its- good company. *she nods as if confirming her words*Jazz: I dunno, I guess I’m too loud. *they laugh, a little bit of sadness hidden in it* Hell, my parents found out I wasn’t a-hundred-percent their daughter because they came home and heard me talkin’ to myself from upstairs. And I love dancin’- makes me feel free, yanno? Oh, and bein’ able to come off the street and back to a place where I can just feel safe is a real bonus. Pike: I sometimes feel like I get in the way? Like- I know that Im tryin’ to help people but I dont wanna help ‘em if they dont want me there! An’ I dont wanna help ‘em if they dont need it, yanno? I just… *a lot more quiet, looking at her hands* I really don’ wanna get in the way. *she shakes her head quickly, like she was shaking away the thought, before snapping her head up* I really really like when we get to have food at Frankies! ‘Specially her pies- Frankie makes the best pies in all o’ Harlem, I’d reckon! An’ her cakes are amazin’! Sam: Ise worried that I won’ figure out whether Ise a boy or not- or if I like fellas or not! Everthin’s real confusin’ an’ I don’ like it none. I like havin’ a fam’ly like this one. They aint really my brudders an’ sisters but I love ‘em like they is. Eric: Ise don’ like my belly- its real squishy an’ I aint ‘sposed ta be squishy. Sammy aint squishy, an’ Benny aint that squishy. But…I know Booker don’ like his legs much but I don’ see anything wrong wid ‘em! Cause they’s just like my arms an’ my legs! But- I uh. I like that even though we aint livin’ wid our old Ma anymore, we’s still got a Ma. But we call ‘er Cap’in most o’ da time.Ash: …Ise scared that Ise too slow. I don’t like bein’ slow. I wanna be fast like the others. An’ I like that even though they don’ really know much about me, the newsies let me stay an’ treat me like fam’ly. It’s real nice. *he plays with his hands. Benny pats him on the back and he shuffles a little closer to him*Shorty: *she wipes at her nose* Sometimes I really don’ like how small I am- it aint too big a deal, but its just sometimes people won’ take me seriously an’ it makes me real annoyed. But I do like my name, so Ise stickin’ with it no matta what! Oh, an’ I like Halloweens- *the other newsies seem to echo an agreement* cause we get to dress up an’ people give us candy jus’ for lookin’ scary! An’ I really like sharin’ the candy with the other newsies from all over New York, cause it means we get to go visit ‘em! *The newsies start to chatter about Halloween when Captain walks into the room.* Captain: Hey, shouldnt ya’ll be out sellin’? Whaddaya sittin’ around here for, huh?Sam: Answerin’ questions, Cap! An’ this ones for everybody! Yous part-a everybody! *he hands her the piece of paper with the questions on it* Captain: *she reads the paper and frowns* Insecurities, huh? Well I’ll answer these when you get ta sellin’, which you better go get started on if ya wanna be able to pay Price the rent tomorrow. Go on, get goin’.*they all stand up, groaning and moaning about being interrupted during breakfast, even though they’ve all finished eating.*

Captain: *she looks at the paper again*  …Pretty deep question there, kid. *she shuffles uncomfortably as a lot of the newsies leave* Aite. Fine. Ise worried that the other leaders- ‘specially the big shots like Spot Conlon an’ Jack Kelly- dont think Ise good enough. Or, yanno- strong enough to look after my newsies. An’ somethin’ I treasure?-Doc: *he turns, looking back at Captain* Hey, I’ll meet you at Frankies later? Captain: Yeah, ‘course. *she pauses, watching Doc leave with a small smile on her face.* …I dunno. 

[kitefleischer-blog]

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Jordyn Lines < go49ers@gmail.com> Date: Mon, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Nick Trowbridge<nicktrollbridge@gmail.com>, Shaylee Sly<imaslydawg@gmail.com>, Joseph Eddie<joeededdy@gmail.com>,  Ellizabeth Coleman<samanddeanheart@gmail.com>, Nathan Young<nathan.c.young15@gmail.com>

Just so you guys know what the most recent government experiment is. First Area 51, then chem trails, then Polybius, now mind-damaging workout videos. At least 6 people have gone brain death in some way associated with this full routine. Perhaps this is part of their plan to destabilize foreign governments by destroying the cognitive capabilities of the unsuspecting masses using the modern internet? Spread via VHS tapes? Does a digital version of the full set exist? Or is this just a harbinger of things to come?

-

Jordyn

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Greg Hatch < finishhimmortalkombat@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Micah Wilcock<mikeormicah@gmail.com>, Claire Robinson<clariebearstare@gmail.com>, Alex Chandler<timelord2k19@gmail.com>,  Ian Woodberry<michaelbuble99@gmail.com>, Kassidy Hamilton<book2002worm@gmail.com> Jordyn Lines <go49ers@gmail.com>,  Isaac Wright<mountainbikemann@gmail.com>,

SPREADING FOR AWARENESS

IF YOU EVER WALK INTO A ROOM AND SEE THIS PLAYING, RUN AND DON’T LOOK BACK. DON’T BE LURED IN BY THE FUNKY MUSIC, OR THE WEIRD FASCINATION OF SO MUCH ARM BEING SWUNG AROUND. IT WILL SUCK YOU IN AND FIRST YOU’LL PAY TOO MUCH MONEY FOR IT THEN YOU’LLGIVE IT EVERY WAKING THOUGHT. THE LURP OUT WORK OUT IS CURSED OR POSSESSED OR SOMETHING.

BUT THE PREVIEW VIDEO IS OKAY TO WATCH THOUGH. ITS NOT CURSED

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Jessica Brownell <jessbrownell@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Justin Holland<ajhsclasspresident@gmail.com>, Matthew Ricks<blueflammes@gmail.com>, Greg Hatch<finishhimmortalkombat@gmail.com>

I’m actually a big fan of this! body positivity is soemthing really important today in our society- you don’t have to be jacked or ultra buff to be fit, even super skinny people can too! We should consider doing this as an activity for community awareness week!

From,

Jessica Brownell

Co-Vice President

AJHS Student Council

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Jordan Smith < thegreatjordini2@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Christine Grosland<ifoundaturkeyinmyshoe@gmail.com>, Jessica Brownell<jessbrownell@gmail.com>, James Smith<particalmanners@gmail.com>,  Brylee Perry<squarepancakeroundpiehole@gmail.com>, Derick Shawns<DshawnS@gmail.com>

This haunts my dreams.

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Jon Parker <cmsec1990@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Adam Cook<whowantsacookie@gmail.com>, Courtney Farnsworth<courtney873@gmail.com>, Olivia Ockey<boophelia@gmail.com>,  Riley Field<warcraftpanderanboy@gmail.com>, Jordan Smith<thegreatjordini2@gmail.com>

THIS HAPPENED TO MY COUSINS.

They got a boxed set of the LOWO tapes at a yard sale, thought they looked funny, I don’t know. Picked them up on monday. Told us they were going to carpool up to my parents house for sunday dinner with us, but on sunday, they didnt come outside. We honked, called, nothing. We just went without them.

Then we heard that they had missed all of their college classes from some mutual friends. Somebody went over- found them standing in the living room, staring at the tv. They were barely moving, looked like they hadnt eaten in days, one was mumbling something over and over again. Hospitalized for three days each. Neither had any memory of what happened or why they were just standing there. Chucked all the tapes though.

So do at your own risk. Im not going to!

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Carol Neibaur < achristmascaroler@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Mark Hailstone<hailstonefamilyemail@gmail.com>, Matthew Laudie<letusgivehimlaud@gmail.com>, Justin Hendricks<pghsseminary@gmail.com>,  Megan Warner<toinfinityandfurthermore@gmail.com>, Jon Parker<cmsec1990@gmail.com>

Some kids in my class started doing this and have now missed an ENTIRE WEEK OF SCHOOL. They’ve been doing it every day---- even one of their moms is doing it too! DON’T GO IF YOU VALUE YOUR GRADES CAUSE YOU WONT STOP.  

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Amaryllis Lorelai < amaryllislorelai1@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Carol Neibaur<achristmascaroler@gmail.com>, Wesley Andersen<foxmisterfantastic@gmail.com>, Alyse Walker<walkeraly009@gmail.com>

Does anybody else think this is creepy? XD

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Kyle Crossmore <dontfearthesleeper2001@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Chad Anderson<goldenstatewarriorz18@gmail.com> Jake Ferndale<agoodfernster@hotmail.com>, Caroline Everett <yesIknowthemuffinman@gmail.com>, Zaryia Meades<corgiloverfan@gmail.com>,  Karen<canispeaktoyourmanager@hotmail.com>, Grace Kelly<2001agraceodyssey@gmail.com>, Amaryllis Lorelai <amaryllislorelai1@gmail.com>,  Charlie Kaufmann<charliecharming@gmail.com>

Ive never felt so good in my entire life.

Love the lurp

Go with the gangle

LURPOUT WORKOUTTTTT YEAH

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Sarah Dalley <awildsarahappears@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Jake Ferndale<agoodfernster@hotmail.com>, Caroline Everett <yesIknowthemuffinman@gmail.com>, Zaryia Meades<corgiloverfan@gmail.com>,  Karen<canispeaktoyourmanager@hotmail.com>, Chad Anderson<goldenstatewarriorz18@gmail.com> Kyle Crossmore <dontfearthesleeper2001@gmail.com>, Grace Kelly<2001agraceodyssey@gmail.com>, Amaryllis Lorelai <amaryllislorelai1@gmail.com>,  Charlie Kaufmann<charliecharming@gmail.com>

For all of you who were wondering why Bo, Devs, BJ, Xavier, Evan, Erik, and Cynthia missed class today, I think they were doing this? They started last weekend, and idk must be pretty good if they’d all miss stats for it. We should try it?

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Quin Dalley <qshizzlefrizzle@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Anne Dalley<dalleyfam@gmail.com>, Richard Dalley<dickeyboiii@gmail.com>, Stephen Dalley<stephen.dalley@comcast.net>,  Sarah Dalley <awildsarahappears@gmail.com>,

Hey fam tried this with friends. Was alright. 3/10. Pretty funny to watch everybody else go crazy tho.

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Brett James <bugmasterbug@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Cynthia Yates<cynderellaslipperz@gmail.com>, Blake Moore<codmaster95@gmail.com>, Erik Ortiz<quetuquieresloco@gmail.com>,  Veronica Belt<vivi4eva4@gmail.com>, Quinn Dalley<qshizzlefrizzle@gmail.com>

GUYS YOU ALL HAVE TO COME!!!!!1!!!1 We did numbers 2 through 7 tonight and when we’re done with them we’re going to do it all again! We’re going to do it tomorrow! At 11 AM!

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Xavier Bushman <jurassicparkranger02@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Beau Robertson<1derful23peat@hotmail.com>, Devin Livingston<devin24601@gmail.com>, Brett James<bugmasterbug@gmail.com>,  Evan Hansen<onestepinfrontoftheother@hotmail.com>, Xavier Bushman<jurassicparkranger02@gmail.com>

Luke and I got his brothers tapes and got a VHS player at Savers and tried the first one. Was crazy good. We’re doing the next one on Friday at my house at 5 if any of you want to join!  

-Xav

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Andrew Caldwell <andrewevancaldwell2@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Beau Robertson<1derful23peat@hotmail.com>, Devin Livingston<devin24601@gmail.com>, Brett James<bugmasterbug@gmail.com>,  Evan Hansen<onestepinfrontoftheother@hotmail.com>, Xavier Bushman<jurassicparkranger02@gmail.com>

SO DUMB I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING XD XD XD XD XD  XD XD XD XD EVERYONE NEEDS TO SEE THIS

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Luke Yang <makemepancakes@yangfamily.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Victor Klein<iamthe1victor@msn.com>, Samantha Bale<krazykatlady42@gmail.com>, Adam Redford<<addingadam94@hotmail.com>>,  Harry Stein<rockstermonster2000@gmail.com>, Elizabeth Nelson<darcylover4ever@gmail.com>, Bradley Warren<Bradisthewordnotthebird@hotmail.com>, Andrew Caldwell<andrewevancaldwell2@gmail.com>

This is actually really great! My brother did this! He got so buff! He could punch down a wall! And its fun! What more could you want! I think he still has the VHS! I will ask him!

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Samantha Bale <krazykatlady42@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Luke Yang<makemepancakes@yangfamily.com>, Garret Jeffs <garretttheferret@hotmail.com>

I can’t unsee this. XD

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Victor Klein <iamthe1victor@msn.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: lurp out work out To: Carlos Reyes<dontcallmefluffy@gmail.com>, Adam Redford<addingadam94@hotmail.com>, Samantha Bale<krazykatlady42@gmail.com>, Felix Arias <linklegend@hotmail.com>, David Johnson <dashingdavydude@hotmail.com>

Lol wut

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Iggy Beriman <bergerboyy@hotmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: lurp out work out To: Victor Klein<iamthe1victor@msn.com>, Loren Brunken <laurenbrunken@gmail.com>

Guys guys guys guys guys check this out we need to totally do this!!! Its like its made for you

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Jordyn Lines < go49ers@gmail.com> Date: Mon, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Nick Trowbridge<nicktrollbridge@gmail.com>, Shaylee Sly<imaslydawg@gmail.com>, Joseph Eddie<joeededdy@gmail.com>,  Ellizabeth Coleman<samanddeanheart@gmail.com>, Nathan Young<nathan.c.young15@gmail.com>

Just so you guys know what the most recent government experiment is. First Area 51, then chem trails, then Polybius, now mind-damaging workout videos. At least 6 people have gone brain death in some way associated with this full routine. Perhaps this is part of their plan to destabilize foreign governments by destroying the cognitive capabilities of the unsuspecting masses using the modern internet? Spread via VHS tapes? Does a digital version of the full set exist? Or is this just a harbinger of things to come?

-

Jordyn

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Greg Hatch < finishhimmortalkombat@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Micah Wilcock<mikeormicah@gmail.com>, Claire Robinson<clariebearstare@gmail.com>, Alex Chandler<timelord2k19@gmail.com>,  Ian Woodberry<michaelbuble99@gmail.com>, Kassidy Hamilton<book2002worm@gmail.com> Jordyn Lines <go49ers@gmail.com>,  Isaac Wright<mountainbikemann@gmail.com>,

SPREADING FOR AWARENESS

IF YOU EVER WALK INTO A ROOM AND SEE THIS PLAYING, RUN AND DON’T LOOK BACK. DON’T BE LURED IN BY THE FUNKY MUSIC, OR THE WEIRD FASCINATION OF SO MUCH ARM BEING SWUNG AROUND. IT WILL SUCK YOU IN AND FIRST YOU’LL PAY TOO MUCH MONEY FOR IT THEN YOU’LLGIVE IT EVERY WAKING THOUGHT. THE LURP OUT WORK OUT IS CURSED OR POSSESSED OR SOMETHING.

BUT THE PREVIEW VIDEO IS OKAY TO WATCH THOUGH. ITS NOT CURSED

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Jessica Brownell <jessbrownell@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Justin Holland<ajhsclasspresident@gmail.com>, Matthew Ricks<blueflammes@gmail.com>, Greg Hatch<finishhimmortalkombat@gmail.com>

I’m actually a big fan of this! body positivity is soemthing really important today in our society- you don’t have to be jacked or ultra buff to be fit, even super skinny people can too! We should consider doing this as an activity for community awareness week!

From,

Jessica Brownell

Co-Vice President

AJHS Student Council

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Jordan Smith < thegreatjordini2@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Christine Grosland<ifoundaturkeyinmyshoe@gmail.com>, Jessica Brownell<jessbrownell@gmail.com>, James Smith<particalmanners@gmail.com>,  Brylee Perry<squarepancakeroundpiehole@gmail.com>, Derick Shawns<DshawnS@gmail.com>

This haunts my dreams.

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Jon Parker <cmsec1990@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Adam Cook<whowantsacookie@gmail.com>, Courtney Farnsworth<courtney873@gmail.com>, Olivia Ockey<boophelia@gmail.com>,  Riley Field<warcraftpanderanboy@gmail.com>, Jordan Smith<thegreatjordini2@gmail.com>

THIS HAPPENED TO MY COUSINS.

They got a boxed set of the LOWO tapes at a yard sale, thought they looked funny, I don’t know. Picked them up on monday. Told us they were going to carpool up to my parents house for sunday dinner with us, but on sunday, they didnt come outside. We honked, called, nothing. We just went without them.

Then we heard that they had missed all of their college classes from some mutual friends. Somebody went over- found them standing in the living room, staring at the tv. They were barely moving, looked like they hadnt eaten in days, one was mumbling something over and over again. Hospitalized for three days each. Neither had any memory of what happened or why they were just standing there. Chucked all the tapes though.

So do at your own risk. Im not going to!

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Carol Neibaur < achristmascaroler@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Mark Hailstone<hailstonefamilyemail@gmail.com>, Matthew Laudie<letusgivehimlaud@gmail.com>, Justin Hendricks<pghsseminary@gmail.com>,  Megan Warner<toinfinityandfurthermore@gmail.com>, Jon Parker<cmsec1990@gmail.com>

Some kids in my class started doing this and have now missed an ENTIRE WEEK OF SCHOOL. They’ve been doing it every day---- even one of their moms is doing it too! DON’T GO IF YOU VALUE YOUR GRADES CAUSE YOU WONT STOP.  

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Amaryllis Lorelai < amaryllislorelai1@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Carol Neibaur<achristmascaroler@gmail.com>, Wesley Andersen<foxmisterfantastic@gmail.com>, Alyse Walker<walkeraly009@gmail.com>

Does anybody else think this is creepy? XD

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Kyle Crossmore <dontfearthesleeper2001@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Chad Anderson<goldenstatewarriorz18@gmail.com> Jake Ferndale<agoodfernster@hotmail.com>, Caroline Everett <yesIknowthemuffinman@gmail.com>, Zaryia Meades<corgiloverfan@gmail.com>,  Karen<canispeaktoyourmanager@hotmail.com>, Grace Kelly<2001agraceodyssey@gmail.com>, Amaryllis Lorelai <amaryllislorelai1@gmail.com>,  Charlie Kaufmann<charliecharming@gmail.com>

Ive never felt so good in my entire life.

Love the lurp

Go with the gangle

LURPOUT WORKOUTTTTT YEAH

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Sarah Dalley <awildsarahappears@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Jake Ferndale<agoodfernster@hotmail.com>, Caroline Everett <yesIknowthemuffinman@gmail.com>, Zaryia Meades<corgiloverfan@gmail.com>,  Karen<canispeaktoyourmanager@hotmail.com>, Chad Anderson<goldenstatewarriorz18@gmail.com> Kyle Crossmore <dontfearthesleeper2001@gmail.com>, Grace Kelly<2001agraceodyssey@gmail.com>, Amaryllis Lorelai <amaryllislorelai1@gmail.com>,  Charlie Kaufmann<charliecharming@gmail.com>

For all of you who were wondering why Bo, Devs, BJ, Xavier, Evan, Erik, and Cynthia missed class today, I think they were doing this? They started last weekend, and idk must be pretty good if they’d all miss stats for it. We should try it?

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Quin Dalley <qshizzlefrizzle@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Anne Dalley<dalleyfam@gmail.com>, Richard Dalley<dickeyboiii@gmail.com>, Stephen Dalley<stephen.dalley@comcast.net>,  Sarah Dalley <awildsarahappears@gmail.com>,

Hey fam tried this with friends. Was alright. 3/10. Pretty funny to watch everybody else go crazy tho.

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Brett James <bugmasterbug@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Cynthia Yates<cynderellaslipperz@gmail.com>, Blake Moore<codmaster95@gmail.com>, Erik Ortiz<quetuquieresloco@gmail.com>,  Veronica Belt<vivi4eva4@gmail.com>, Quinn Dalley<qshizzlefrizzle@gmail.com>

GUYS YOU ALL HAVE TO COME!!!!!1!!!1 We did numbers 2 through 7 tonight and when we’re done with them we’re going to do it all again! We’re going to do it tomorrow! At 11 AM!

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Xavier Bushman <jurassicparkranger02@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Beau Robertson<1derful23peat@hotmail.com>, Devin Livingston<devin24601@gmail.com>, Brett James<bugmasterbug@gmail.com>,  Evan Hansen<onestepinfrontoftheother@hotmail.com>, Xavier Bushman<jurassicparkranger02@gmail.com>

Luke and I got his brothers tapes and got a VHS player at Savers and tried the first one. Was crazy good. We’re doing the next one on Friday at my house at 5 if any of you want to join!  

-Xav

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Andrew Caldwell <andrewevancaldwell2@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Beau Robertson<1derful23peat@hotmail.com>, Devin Livingston<devin24601@gmail.com>, Brett James<bugmasterbug@gmail.com>,  Evan Hansen<onestepinfrontoftheother@hotmail.com>, Xavier Bushman<jurassicparkranger02@gmail.com>

SO DUMB I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING XD XD XD XD XD  XD XD XD XD EVERYONE NEEDS TO SEE THIS

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Luke Yang <makemepancakes@yangfamily.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Victor Klein<iamthe1victor@msn.com>, Samantha Bale<krazykatlady42@gmail.com>, Adam Redford<<addingadam94@hotmail.com>>,  Harry Stein<rockstermonster2000@gmail.com>, Elizabeth Nelson<darcylover4ever@gmail.com>, Bradley Warren<Bradisthewordnotthebird@hotmail.com>, Andrew Caldwell<andrewevancaldwell2@gmail.com>

This is actually really great! My brother did this! He got so buff! He could punch down a wall! And its fun! What more could you want! I think he still has the VHS! I will ask him!

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Samantha Bale <krazykatlady42@gmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: FW: lurp out work out To: Luke Yang<makemepancakes@yangfamily.com>, Garret Jeffs <garretttheferret@hotmail.com>

I can’t unsee this. XD

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Victor Klein <iamthe1victor@msn.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: FW: lurp out work out To: Carlos Reyes<dontcallmefluffy@gmail.com>, Adam Redford<addingadam94@hotmail.com>, Samantha Bale<krazykatlady42@gmail.com>, Felix Arias <linklegend@hotmail.com>, David Johnson <dashingdavydude@hotmail.com>

Lol wut

---------- Forwarded message --------- From: Iggy Beriman <bergerboyy@hotmail.com> Date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 12:16 PM Subject: lurp out work out To: Victor Klein<iamthe1victor@msn.com>, Loren Brunken <laurenbrunken@gmail.com>

Guys guys guys guys guys check this out we need to totally do this!!! Its like its made for you

https://youtu.be/AuMG0DSyJr4

[late-nights-stage-lights-blog]

MUSICAL TAG; ATTATCH YOURS SO WE CAN HAVE ONE BIG THREAD AND BC NO ONE ON HERE LIKES ME SO I CANT TAG ANYONE LOL

1. Plays or musicals? I've never truly seen a play- nor do i have an interest to (with the exception of the Cursed Child) 2. When did you start liking the performing arts? When i was in second grade and was chosen to sing a solo in a patriotic show where we sung a whole bunch of patriotic songs, ever since i wanted to do something with singing- but as of theatre exclusively- 7th grade when i watched Newsies (the movie) for the first time 3. Ever been in a musical? Yes omg, my most recent was the Addams Family and i got my first lead as wednesday, now i'm in hairspray in he ensemble!! 4. What was the first musical you saw on Broadway? Amélie!! i was so happy for that to be my first musical as well, it's amazing 5. Number one dream role? Wednesday Addams but i got to play her :)- i would love to play Carrie in Carrie and i would love to play Jane in a Bronx Tale:)) 6. Number one opposite gender dream role? Valjean; Jack Kelly; Joe Gillis (sunset blvd) and C (bronx tale) 7. Most overrated musical? Ugghgh y'all are gonna hate me again. wicked. there, i said it. i tried listening to it multiple times but i get super bored. i think that if i actually see it then i will like it but as of now it's most overrated to me 8. Which musical do you want to be made into a movie? i prefer live theatre to movies, but i would love for them to film every show when it stops running on broadway and release it as a dvd or put it on broadway HD 9. Which movie would you like to be made into a musical? TANGLED. POLAR EXPRESS. something super random but i think cyber bully could possibly make a good musical 10. What musical(s) are you wanting to see? i've never seen Les Mis live so i want to see that; finding neverland; DEH; Something Rotten; Anastasia; Newsies even though i've seen it and its closed and they're a digital copy coming out soon ITS JUST NOT THE SAME OKAY; come from away; bandstand; probably everything on bway rn except on your feet and waitress 11. Favorite musical. You have to choose one. THIS IS LITERALLY SO HARD OK I CANT JSJSJDNDKDJDJJSDJ IM GONNA GIVE LIKE A TOP 5;;; NEWSIES; A BRONX TALE; okay wow nope just 2 lol BUT I STILL LOVE SO MANY THOSE I JIST HAVE AN EMOTOONAL CONNECTION WITH IM SORRY 12. what would you do if theatre didn't exist? wowza i... i can't think about this um i would probably try to be a recording artist bc that's what i wanted to do before i discovered theatre; that just made me really emo okay wow