Brooklyn's Girl (A Spot Conlon love story)

Chapter 8 - Rally

A/N (This is what Joss's going to be wearing for the rally.) 

That night I sat in Medda's dressing room as I waited for Jack to show up. He said he'd come get me when the rally was about to start, so all I had to do was wait. I'd already gone over my song several times in my head, warmed up my voice and now I was just pacing around the room, swinging my stick. 

"Youse should be careful or you're gonna hit someone with that there cane." I turned around to see Jack standing in the doorway with a blushing David behind him. I gave him a confused look before replying to Jack.

"Hitting people is kinda the point of havi'n it." 

Jack laughed and walked inside, sitting down at the bench in front of Medda's vanity. David was still lingering in the doorway. His eyes had followed Jack, making me smirk. So thats why he's blushing. 

"So, when's the rally gon start?" I ask Jack, leaning on my stick. He smirked.

"Any minute now." he replied as he stood up. "You sure you'se wanna perform?" 

I nodded. "Medda says Ise ready, and this is been me dream for years." Jack shook his head. 

"Ise just don wanna deal with all the boys going afta ya once theyse see how pretty ya are." I giggled. "You cant fool me Jack. Flattering threats ain't gon make me back out." He shrugged. 

"Worth a try. Anyway, we'se better get goin or Medda's gon scold me for keepin ya." 

I rolled my eyes. "For someone who goin against an entire news company, youse pretty scared o Medda." I took one last look at myself in the mirror. My golden brown hair was lightly curled, and I was wearing a beautiful blue blouse with a light gray skirt. I hadn't felt this girly in years, and it felt a little weird. 

"You okay?" I turned to see David looking at me, concerned. "i'm fine. Just feels weird wearin a skirt. I ain't worn one in years." David seemed a bit surprised by that, but I decided to leave the room before he could ask. 

.

.

.

David and Jack were standing on the stage with Spot, waiting for the boys to calm down. Spot looked fairly nice, although he still had on his faded red suspenders. He seemed to be searching for someone, but gave up after a few minutes. I gave Jack a wave from where I was hiding behind the curtains. 

"So, we've come a long way, but we ain't there yet and maybe it's only gonna get tougher from now on. But that's fine, we'll just get tougher with it. But also, we gotta get smart and start listening to my pal David, who says stop soakin the scabs." Jack anounced. I noticed that David's face was getting red again.

"What are we supposed to do to the bums? Kiss 'em?" Race asked, a few others calling out in agreement. 

"Any scab I see I soak 'em. Period." Spot told them. Honestly I wanted to agreed, but Jack would'a killed me if I came out before my song. David stepped up to Spot. 

"No, no. That's what they want us to do. If we get violent, it's just playing into their hands." He said. Spot rolled his eyes. 

"Hey, look. They're gonna be playing with my hands, alright. 'Cuz it ain't what they say, it's what we say. And nobody ain't gonna listen to us unless we make 'em." The boys all started shouting and arguing. Jack looked over at me, nodding. I smiled, and let out a peircing whistle, getting most of the boys to shut up. 

"You got no brains. Why we starting to fight each other? It's just what the big shot's wanna see." Jack said. "That we're street rats! Street rats with no brain's. No respect for nothing, including ourselves! So, here's how it's gonna be. If we don't act together, then we're nothing. If we don't stick together, then we're nothing. And if we can't even trust each other, then we're nothing."