Chapter Text
Spot POV:
Jake Kelly coming up to Brooklyn was not something I expected, however, his words were much more unexpected.
”Pulitzer raised the price on papes, and us Manhattan newsies are strikin’” his heavily accent rang out through every word. I already knew my answer. No matter how much it hurt Race, I wasn’t going to put my newsies in danger.
I realized that Race wasn’t one of the newsies that was currently behind Jack. Only him and one of newsie that I didn’t know. Though he was tall, at least compared to me.
”How do I know that you won’t bail out when the strike gets real?” I hardened my voice. “I can’t have my crew rally behind you if you’ll be gone once the first sign of danger appears
“We won’t bail Conlon, we’re serious about this. We’re a union,” the tall newsie behind Jack spoke up. “I can’t join you, not yet,” I hissed out. Jack and the brown haired boy left soon after and I made my way to the pier, the place I always came to clear my thoughts. The place I first met Racetrack.
Flashback:
I walked to the pier after one specifically hard day. Almost no one had been out to buy papes all week, leaving my boys and I grasping at straws to stay alive, that’s when I saw him. Blonde hair that shone in the faint light from a sunset that still wasn’t completely gone. And his eyes, god his blue eyes that reflected the ocean beyond us.
He heard me as I walked over and smiled showing his chipped teeth from what I could only assume were from soakin’ other newsies. “Who are you?” I asked the cute mysterious stranger.
“Racetrack Higgins, and your Spot Conlon,” he smirked. “I’ve been sellin’ papes ‘round here for the past few weeks, I’m surprised we haven’t crossed paths until now.”
I walked closer to Racetrack, and leaned against the railing of the pier, “What borough are from?”
”Manhattan, run by the one and only Jack Kelly,” the blonde smiled as he was proud of the other newsie. “So what’dya think, can I keep sellin’ in Brooklyn?”
”I don’t see why not. Just don’t get in the way of my boys tryin to sell papes,” I said, and I hated how my voice already seemed to soften around the nearly stranger.
Racetrack smiled his stupid smile “thanks Spot Conlon, your pretty alright,” he moved slightly closer to me on the railing. He stared out into the ocean together, and for the first time this week, not everything seemed so hard.