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The final note was held. Applause roared out from the crowd. It was nice to actually watch Medda perform for once, instead of being in the green room only listening while painting a backdrop. But Jack couldn’t pay attention, as his eyes kept darting up to one of the boxes on the second floor of the theatre. He needed to learn who that mysterious girl was.
He tapped on Davey’s shoulder, his hand gesturing to the box. Davey just chuckled to himself and shook his head.
“Hey, but don’t leave, the show is great!” Jack said while departing from the group. He waved a little goodbye to Les and made his way to the private box.
It was seconds before the music started again. This time with the “Bowery beauties,” as Medda announced. The music was very can-can-esque. Fitting for the name of the group of girls.
The group started to sing, “Don’t come a’knocking on my door!”
Jack climbed up the ladder, then opened the door to the so-called “private box.” It was rude to go unannounced. So before sitting in one of the other seats, he decided a welcome would be wanted.
“Well, hello again.”
The girl almost jumped out of her seat, “Hey! T-This is a private box!”
“Want I should lock the door?” He pointed to the door and took a seat, “Twice in one day. Think it’s fate?” He batted his eyelashes, even though he knew it was just a coincidence.
“Go away. I’m working,” Her tone was almost deadpan, but Jack couldn’t help but keep poking. He wanted to know who this girl was. “A working girl, huh? Doin’ what?”
“Reviewing the show for the New York Sun.” She ended her sentence with a sigh.
“Hey! I work for the world.” Okay, now this was weird. How did he not know who she was? There was no chance that today was the first time he had just happened to talk to her. Huh.
“Somewhere out there, someone cares. Go tell them,” she gestured towards the outside of the box, to all the people sitting in the audience. She was fierce. Maybe that’s what piqued Jack's interest.
“The views’ better here,” that was true, despite being further away from the stage. It was way easier to see here than trying to peek through the vomit of the stage, to stay hidden.
She rolled her eyes, “Please go, I’m not in the habit of talking to strangers.” She started to vigorously write in her tiny notebook. All Jack could make out was her neat handwriting— not the words that followed.
“Then you’re going to make a lousy reporta,” He chuckled. “The name's Jack Kelly.” He took out his hand to shake hers. But before their hands could meet, she pulled hers back, “Is that what it says on your rap sheet?” This girl was quick with witty responses. Made sense that she was a reporter.
“A smart girl, huh?” He grabbed the notebook out of her hands, trying to read the words on the page. The only thing he could make out was a name. “Kath. P.” Kath, huh? She had to have been the most peculiar girl he had ever met. No way that was her actual name— that was probably just the name she published under…
“Do you mind!?” ‘’Kath,, took back her notebook and started to pack up her stuff. “Hey! Where you goin’?” Jack called out. He was going to have to do a lot more to get to know her— more than just poking and prodding.
“I think I have enough information for the sun.” She said while she climbed down the ladder, leaving the door open, and slowly descended into the darkness.
“Hey!- “ He didn’t mean to make her leave, but it was no use. She was just so stubborn.
He paws her on and leans on the rail in front of the seats, looking down at the crowd below. It was a small theatre, so the height from the second floor wasn’t too much further than the normal seats, but it made a great difference— being able to see the whole stage.
Suddenly, he remembered the newspaper he had stored in his pocket. It had been a while since he found time to draw; if there was time, he was too tired to even put a line on the paper. Jack pulled the piece out of his pocket, as well as a piece of charcoal. It was surprising that it remained intact for the few days it was living there.
He couldn’t help but sing out the moment the stick of charcoal hit the paper.
“I got no use for moonlight,” he first blocked out where the face was. “Or sappy poetry.”
“Love at first sight for suckers.” At a point, he couldn’t pay attention to drawing; hell, he didn’t even know who to draw. It could be Kath— or whatever her actual name was — but it was too dark in the box to remember her features. He took his eyes off the page and looked down at Davey and Les, still watching the show.
His face flushed, “at least it used to be.” He had been so worried about figuring out who this girl was that he forgot Les and Davey were even here.
“Look, girls are nice,” Kath was a great girl, and she was the most interesting girl he had met out of the few that strolled by Newsies Square, “once or twice.” But no one was like Davey. Jack had only met him today, yet he couldn’t get enough of him, “till I find someone new,” and no girl could ever amount to how Davey made Jack feel— even if it had just been a few hours.
Jack was always quick at catching feelings, no matter who it was. And Davey made it so easy. But it wasn’t like he was in love with Davey or anything, just a crush— that’s all. Jack knew the reality. This was one he would have to push down into the deep pit of his heart. There wasn’t room for people like him. But crushes go away. Maybe Kath could do that; she was a pretty girl after all.
“But, I never planned on someone like you,” He truly never planned… this. All it took was for one smart… tall… stupid boy to come and change his life. And there was no way he would be leaving Davey's side anytime soon.
Jack didn’t waste a second, and started to flesh out the drawing a little, “I got no use for moonlight,” he started with the actual face shape, fixing it to look proper, “or sappy poetry,” he then started on the eyes, periodically looking down at Davey to ensure he got the shape correct, “love at first sights for suckers,” afterwards Jack moved down, drawing every freckle, curl, and imperfection around his nose, “at least it used to be,” he finishes with his mouth… There was no way Jack could be with Kath. He was so eternally fucked.
“What are you doing?” A familiar voice says. Jack quickly flips over his drawing so she can’t see it, and almost drops his piece of charcoal off the balcony in the process, catching it right before it falls onto one of the people below.
“H-hey! Quiet down! There’s a show goin’ on! Why ya back anyway?” He was still awkwardly standing like a scared cat, holding the charcoal in his hand, looking ready to stab Kath.
She slowly walked towards Jack. “I just forgot my purse.” She leans down and apprehensively picks it up. Jack lightly snatches it back from her.
“Y’know you are the most impossible boy-“ she struggled to grab it back from him, as he was using his height against her.
“Shhhhh,” he pointed back to the stage. If anything, he didn’t want to get in trouble from medda.
She finally gets a good grip and steals it back from him, “Ever.” She lets out a little laugh and climbs down the ladder once again. But she doesn’t quite leave.
Jack smiles to himself and puts the finishing touches on the drawing. “No, I never planned on someone,” he puts the charcoal back in his pocket, and looks down at Davey one final time.
“Like you.”
Jack was so distracted by his drawing that he didn’t realize that the Bowery beauties were running off the stage. But it didn’t take long for his attention to be brought back to Davey, who was waving goodbye.
Jack waved back as his face turned red. He then heard footsteps down the ladder once again. Kath knew. She saw. But Jack didn’t care. He knew she would keep that to herself.
Davey would probably never see the drawing or ever know how Jack felt, but even that simple wave made Jack feel things he never knew he could.
He tucked the drawing into the pocket of his blue shirt and left the theatre.