Rise of the Soldier and the Poet

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A/N: So as promised last week's chapter a week late. Anyways I hope you enjoy this chapter and that you have a good rest of your week.

Flashback: July 1892

Jaime's POV

I woke up at sunrise the next morning. I just sat up and watched the sunrise over the water. I mean there wasn't anything else ta do. Besides I like sunrises and sunsets. Me and Jack used to watch them all the time together. God I miss him. I wonder if he's looking at the sunrise wherever he is. Figuring out the answers to the questions I've been asking inside my head.

"Early riser," a voice asked

I came back from my thoughts and turned around. It's just Spot.

"Yeah. Sorry. Did I wake you," I asked

"Nah I'm an early riser too. Ready for today," he answered.

"I'm still unsure ya know. Besides I have a hard time talking to strangers," I said

"Ya didn't seem to have a problem with me," he replied.

"I don't know. You're...different," I said.

"Ya know for someone who pushed a stranger on the harbor. Yer pretty insecure," he joked.

"Ya know for someone who acts like he has broken ribs from a paperback book. Yer pretty cocky," I teased. "Besides they weren't really strangers. I knew them when me and my brother were in Queens."

"Can it. But while we're on that topic it still hurts real bad," he whined.

"Wow your not dramatic at all. And again it was a paperback book," I laughed.

I held up the book I hit him with.

He hit me in the shoulder lightly.

"How did ya meet them anyway," he asked.

"When me and my brother were in Queens, we ran into them. Match, the kid I pushed in the harbor, got mad at us for breathing the same air he was or something. He started a fight and well we won," I said. "Honestly they're not all bad. It's really just Match. The other kids just want to live, ya know."

It was silent for a few minutes. Until Ace broke it.

"All right newbies ready to sell some papes," Ace said.

"Do we have a choice," I asked sarcastically.

"Nope," Mac said.

"Perfect. I love doing things against my will," I said.

"Can you not be sarcastic for 2 seconds," Spot complained.

"Can you not act like your dying for 2 seconds," I retaliated.

Spot's POV

"But it hurts, I whined.

"Good god Spot. You're more dramatic than my bro-," they started.

"Sorry what was that last word," Mac asked.

"Uh nothing," she lied.

I think Ace just wanted to get us started. And for us to shut up.

"Anyways let's go to the distribution center," he said, changing the topic.

We all left and headed to "The World's" distribution center. Ace and Mac handed each of us a dime.

"Alright just say 20 papes and put the dime down like this," Ace told us.

We watched as Ace slammed a quarter down.

8 Days, 8 Letters; Spot ConlonWhere stories live. Discover now