“Hello again!” The newsboy smirks as he opens the door to your box in Medda’s theatre.

“This is a private box-“ You begin.

“If you want I can lock the door?” He smirks, but looks oh so innocent at the same time. “Twice in one day. Think it’s fate?”

“Go away. I’m working.”

“A working girl, huh? Doin’ what?” He peers over your shoulder.

“Reviewing the show for The New York Sun.” You sound annoyed.

“Hey! I work for The World!”

“Somewhere out there, someone cares. Go tell them.”

Jack sighs, looking you up and down as he leans over the rails of the viewing box. “The view’s better here.”