A/N:So this story is based on the movie "Brick." I recently saw it on a plane and thought wow-that could be fun to rewrite for ffn! so here goes. If you've seen the movie you'll catch the parallels, if not-it'll just be fun. So the writing style is very choppy. Very abrupt. Somewhat stream of conscienous, bc that kinda how the movie was. The one thing taht bugged me was that the acting and the storyline for most of the movie was kind of one-note...and yet thats part of what makes it so fun to write. The dialogue is very quick, witty, no beating around the bush. Since theres a lot of taht i added letters the beginning of longeer dialogues line to help w/ confusion. Blink is our smooth talkin', main man. Specs is Brain (how perfect huh!) So read, review, and enjoy!

I do not own Newsies blahblahblah...

"Just do what I say. Unless you want the same fate?"

"No, no. It's not a problem. Just tell me when and where..."

"Friday. Midnight. The docks. Leave everything else ta' me. You just be ready."

"You got it."

"Oh and-"

"Yea?"

"Don't fuck it up..."

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There she was. Just laying there. The rain was washing away the blood through the cracks between the boards. He just stood there. Unable to move. Unable to think. Drops carving new pathways onto his face. Her hair was soaked and matted onto her face, clothes clinging to her small frame. She was wearing the bracelets her gave her last summer. The Irish Festival. June 29th, 1901. They were green. The man who made them smelled like beer and cigarette smoke. Now they were chipped, wet, dead.

He slung her lifeless body over his shoulder and carried her under the abandoned docks. No one else could see her. Not like that. It wasn't fair. Not to either party. She was too beautiful to be humiliated that way. If they hadn't seen her before, then they didn't deserve to see her now. Footsteps, running away-someone had seen him...

The Next Day

"Hey Specs."

"Heya Blink."

B: "It's been what-a month ah' so?"

S: "3 actually."

B: "You hea' about Abby?"

S: "Yea. It was in the papes. Missing."

B: "Dead, actually."

S: "Heard that too. Sorry Kid."

B: "I'm gonna find out who did it."

S: "Start in the lowa' circles. Move your way up. Keep me updated."

B: "Yea..."

Blink walked towards the girl's lodging house. Pearl answered, her face red, tear stained, drained. She nodded silently and stepped out of the way to let him in.

"Can I go ta' her bunk?"

"Whatda'ya need?"

"Answers..."

She turned and led him upstairs. Opening the door slowly she let him pass, "You know which one..."

An insult? Or just reassurance? He lifted her matress and pulled out the ragged old notebook she wrote in. Half the pages had been torn out. Where were they? He flipped through the pages. The beginning...Kid Blink + Abby forever. I love Blink. Yea...those days were long passed... He flipped further. Drawings, rants, stories, an invitation...An invitation? No details. Just an adress. He tucked it in his pocket and replaced everything as it was. He walked downstairs and tipped his hat to Pearl as he went out the door.

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Irving Hall.

He stood across the street looking up at it. Second date. One of Medda's shows. SHE wasn't gonna be there that night. Perfect timing. He walked in and stood at the back of the theater. Rehersal was in progress. Medda was perfecting a new number. There she was. Row H, seat 6. Appropriate number. He sat in the row behind her.

"Blink..." her voice was low and smooth. Every word she said was laced with poison. She smiled-sort of, "Long time no see my love..." she ran her hand down the side of his face.

"With good reason, Jerica." He removed her hand.

"What brings you to my humble..."she laughed slightly, "Well, my abode?"

"Abby Collins."

Her left eye brow cocked up immediatly, "Innocent, pretty, tiny little figure. Loved her"

"Loved?"

"What ever hapenned to us, Blink?"

"You turned into a bitch, Jerica." He said, matching her tone and inflection. "Abby Collins. Talk ta me."

She laughed slightly to herself and stood,"Haven't seen her in weeks, love. She moved on long ago."

"This ain't a fuckin' play starin' you toots, give me somethin' already."

She leaned down to his ear and whispered,"Come with me, and I'll give you somethin..."

With that she sauntered away. Not walked-sauntered. She taunted him. He didn't give a shit. He got up and followed her backstage to her dressing room. She sat at her vanity and pointed to the smaller mirror in the corner.

"I let her get ready in here."

"Wow. You're just a patron saint ain't ya?"

"I do what I can..." she began to powder her face, "The gentlemen enjoyed her. She made some extra money on the side, if you follow me..."

"Cut the crap, Jerica."

"Aww...not the angel you thought she was, Blink? No one stays pure forever..."

"Yea, and some are never pure ta' begin with..."

She laughed. Like that would insult her. She applied her lipstick with such art, such seductiveness. He was getting tired of this.

"So what hapenned? Where did she go?"

"Who knows, love." She swivled around in her chair and kicked one leg up over the other side, spreading her legs on either side of the chair's back, "Who cares?"

He shook his head and started to walk out.

"Blink..." he paused, not turning around, "Anytime you need a little...comforting-you know who to come to."

"I don't sleep with whores, Jerica."

"Maybe not, but whores sleep with you..."

She turned back to her mirror. He walked out.

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Reviieewwwwss!