Hey Everyone! I'm new to so...yeah!

Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies, mmmk? Disney does. However I do own the plot and the way things go so no touchy!

Also...I'm not good with the New York dialect...so bear with me, kay? It'll get better with time I promise!

Now, on with the story!


A crash was heard and then breaking glass. Shouts of anger and shouts of things dripping with hatred filled the house. From every direction one could hear what was going on in that study. The people working for the family would simply go about their business, paying no mind to what was going on.

This act, as usual, continued for about two hours before things died down and silence once again filled the air. Two sets of feet stomping was heard and then two different doors slamming on wings of the mansion-like house.

If you passed by one door you could hear a rather loud, obnoxious sobbing.

If you passed the other you heard multiple curses and kicks of the door or wall.

And if you passed by the bedroom where a 19 year old girl was to be sleeping you'd hear nothing but silence. One might think she was asleep, but it's always quite the contrary.


"STORMY!" The angry voice of a nearly fifty year old woman was heard outside of the door of the 19 year old girl's bedroom at the early time of 5:45 AM.

"STORMY! GET OUT HERE THIS INSTANT!" the mother continued her yelling. Her voice was hard, cruel, and shrill.

The girl, who was already up and dressed, ignored her mother while she pulled her wavy black hair out of her face and into a messy pony tail in front of her full-frame mirror.

"STORMY! I SAID NOW AND I MEAN NOW!" The mother pounded on the door with a clenched fist. The voice was harsh and rude.

"OH ALL RIGHT!" The girl stormed to her door and flung it open. "What. Do. You. Want?" She asked, frustrated and angry. The fight last night was worse than they had been and the girl had gotten almost three hours of sleep, but even her dreams were haunted with the fight.

"Don't take that tone with me." The mother, a beautiful creature with short curly strawberry blonde hair and light green orbs warned her daughter. Her eyes flashed in anger, another warning that the girl was pushing her mother.

Her features were gorgeous to most but to those that really knew her, there was an obvious age and wear on that face that had always held so much beauty.

"Maybe you shouldn't take the same tone with me." Stormy, suggested and went to slam her door.

Before she had a chance however, a loud slap was heard and then retreating footsteps.

Tears filled Stormy's eyes and she slammed the door shut and ran immediately to her full-frame mirror on the other side of the room. A pink mark had already appeared and now accented her pale face. Tears stung her face as they traveled from her eyes down to her cheeks and fell onto the ground, leaving tiny little puddles on the wood floor.

Glaring at her reflection and suddenly no longer sad but angry she rushed to the bathroom adjoined with her room and grabbed her make-up bag. Doing her best to cover up the mark, she looked at the final production and nodded approvingly. There was hardly any sign of the morning's event, thankfully.

"I have got to get out of here." The girl muttered, still staring at the mark she had just covered up. Though she couldn't see it, the image flooded her mind's vision.m Stormy blew her nose and made sure her eyes weren't too blood shot then slipped out of her bedroom quietly, shutting the door without making hardly any noise.

Stormy slinked down the halls and past all the people working for her mother and father. She avoided the kitchen, the den, her father's study, her mother's parlor, her mother's bedroom, her father's bedroom, and any other room that might mean a confrontation with one or both of the two.

The night before had been bad enough, she didn't need a morning one to erupt. Especially with her in the middle of it. At least they usually had the decency to keep their daughter out of it.


"Hey dere, Pretty!" she heard literally the moment she slipped out of the front door and closed it with the gentlest touch.

"What do you want Conlon?" She asked, turning around and raising an eyebrow at the boy who stood in her mother's garden. "Oh, before you respond I advise you to step out of the sot my mother just put down." She said wisely and began walking to her side yard.

Annoyingly, though expectantly, the boy followed. The two had always been friends, pretty much best friends, but Spot could get on Stormy's nerves easily, as she could get on his just the same.

"Spot, what do you want?" The girl asked as she opened the gate to her back yard. She was on edge and certainly didn't want to put up with any bullshit today.

Spot followed. "I wahnted tah ask yah somfin." He said after he had closed the gate behind himself.

Stormy moved to the other side of the backyard that faced the outskirts of town. She ran over to it, knowing Spot would run after her. They really had to get out of her backyard before someone spotted them. Someone being her mother or father.

She placed her foot against the wood and her hands grabbed the top of the fence. Stormy lifted herself up and pushed over so she flew to the other side. In less than a second, Spot was with her, at her side, with a look of confusion on his handsome face.

"Wow...what was dat about?" The boy asked, his New York accent thick and his grammar poor for not having a proper education.

"Nothing. Is that what you had to ask me?" She asked. His medium length shaggy brown hair with natural mixes of gold and light brown tones in it made him look really good in the morning sun. She couldn't help but feel attracted to him, but as usual she knew it was of no use.

"Nah...I had somfin tah ask." He replied.

"Well what do you want?" She asked as she began walking down the alley behind her house. She knew her voice held an irritated tint to it and felt bad for being this way but she couldn't help it after what happened with her mother. It was different with her father...but her mother.

The boy walked with her, at her side though his steps were more confident than hers. They were silent for a few moments; Stormy caught up in her thoughts about what had just happened merely twenty minutes before while Spot was trying to be cautious with the girl, he knew she had trouble trusting people and he didn't want her to get upset with him.

"Ya wanna go to dah pokah game with me tonigh?" He asked, his hands in his pockets. The silence was broken and Stormy looked over, pushing her thoughts of this morning away. She looked up at Spot. Very unlike most boys who would be looking at the ground in shyness, he stared at her with his blue eyes.

Stormy studied him for a moment. She stared at him and looked him up and down, examining his stance, seeking for some sort of sign that all he was trying to do was get her in the sack.

Spot saw her look that said she was having a self battle of whether to go or not. "Come on, please!" Spot chimed giving a boyish grin that suited him very well. He went to tickle her but Stormy had decided to just go and avoid being tickled.

"OH ALL RIGHT!" She said returning the grin. Spot's hands retreated to his pockets and his grin grew.

"Great!" He said and they continued walking in a sort of eerie but comfortable silence.

"Storms?" Again, the silence was broken.

"Yeah?"

"Why did I heah yellin? I was passin by earlier...This mornin when I was sellin da papes and..."

Stormy was silent and continued walking. Suddenly, she felt like crying and a large lump in her throat arose and she swallowed at a sad attempt to make it go away. She hadn't known her parents were already going at it. Hadn't they done enough fighting last night?

"Storms?" The boy asked, tilting his head to look at her face.

Stormy bit her bottom lip and looked away. "It was nothing." She got out after a few moments of looking away.

"Oh reely? Cause if so dat was a lottah nothin." Spot said and walked in front of her, grabbing her wrists.

Stormy refused to meet his grey gaze and looked past him. The early morning sun was up and birds were now chirping in her neighbor's yards. People's garbage cans were sitting abandoned in the alley they had just stopped walking down. Big blue ones with white trash bags. She noted all this while she was attempting not to meet his gaze, though she knew eventually he would make her.

"Storms. Look at me." His voice was soft and gentle, different from the normal cocky and boldness it held.

She shook her head and the lump in her throat grew. The trash bags had black ties that closed them. A scrawny kitten sneaked around a trash can and hopped onto it's lid. The kitten was grey and white splotched. It seemed young and far too skinny, but energetic as it playfully pawed at a butterfly. It reminded her of the Newsies, the way they always made the best of things...or at least how most of them made the best of things.

Soon she felt her chin being lifted by his hand and her clear green eyes met his cold grey ones. The cold seemed to be more soft than it usually was. Her own eyes seemed to hold a fragile look, along with the tears welled up, just waiting to pour down her cheeks and release the depressing emotion that had been building up inside her for months.

No more watching kitten apparently. She thought when Spot's hand didn't move from her chin.

"Storms..." Spot looked into her eyes and saw the tears beginning to fall. His hand cupped her face and those cold grey eyes melted with something that was seemingly warmth and caring. "Storms...what was that all about?" His voice was smooth and cooing.

"You should really have my name instead of Spot, ya know that?" She asked at a sad attempt to change the subject. Her tears choked her and she let out a nervous laugh.

"Wha makes yah think dat? Hey! No changin dah subject, Missy!" Spot added on after figuring out what was going on.

Stormy let out a laugh and shook her head, a small smile on her face.

Spot, whose arm was still holding her arm released her but slipped his arm around her waist. "Come on! Juss tell me." He pleaded.

Stormy took a deep inhale and began talking. "Okay, fine. They're always arguing and fighting and throwing and screaming, and they never stop until somebody gets hurt or they lose their voices or something with my dad's job comes up. But they never seem to acknowledge that I'm still here, that I'm getting hurt. Nope, they never even think twice. I guess this morning they started fighting again. Last night they had a fight...but it was worse than usual. WAY worse. I can't believe they were fighting again."

"Aw, I'm sorry my little butterfly." The boy pulled her into a hug and Stormy's arms wrapped around him.

"Heah, let's get you all cleaned up befoah somebohdy asks what wen' on." He said and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

Stormy nodded and attempted to help by wiping her eyes furiously.

"Uhh, Storms, what's this?" The boy asked as the pale liquid-like stuff that had rubbed off of her face.

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Oo So...what did you think? Did you love it? Hate it? Hmm? Well this is my first time writing on here...so it was short and stuff. The next chapter, which I am working on will be longer and WAY better, I promise!