~Author's Note:
Hey, everyone. This is my second Newsies fanfiction, and it's going to be a lot different than my first one, Rage, which was sort of funny and full of teenage angst & romance. This one is darker and isn't really centered around the romance, although there will be some.
My first chapter is kinda long, so I'm sorry about that. I got a little carried away.
Please R&R! I love you all.
lovelovelove, Julianna.~
November 15 1904
It is a cold morning in Manhattan, and the blackish smog from the factories that fills the sky adds to the dark and icy closed-in feeling that hangs in the air.
Violet Lourdes is making her slow ascent up the marble stairs of the brownstone building that is The Convent of the Sacred Heart. Her face is pale and her coat collar is upturned against it to shield her from the windy air.
She glances behind her in hopefulness but turns again in disappointment and opens the heavy oak door to enter Sacred Heart.
Immediately after she shuts it behind her, a gust of warm air is blown in her face and she thankfully continues walking down the hall. When she reaches the Sitting Room, a fire is crackling in the hearth, its light splashing gaily on the plushy chairs that surround the fireplace.
Out of one of these chairs springs Clementine Le Torneau. "Did you get it?" she asks immediately.
Violet quiets her by putting a finger to her lips. Clementine clamps a hand over her mouth and whispers, "Sorry."
Violet grins. "Yes, I got it."
"Can we see?" asks Georgia Bodine, leaping from her armchair and joining Clementine where she stands expectantly in front of Violet.
Violet looks around shiftily before quickly pulling the brown paper bag from her coat. She unfolds the paper and shakes the bag open to reveal what's inside. Smiling broadly, her friends' eyes go wide in amazement.
"Mother of Mary," Georgia swears. "What did you have to do for this?"
Violet smirks rebelliously. "I do what I gotta do, sweets," she says in a trashy-sounding New York accent, a far cry from her usual polished speech.
Clementine and Georgia giggle appreciatively as Violet tucks it back into her coat. "I expect you'll give us the details later, eh, Vi?" asks Clementine.
Violet is just about to answer her when ringing footsteps coming from the hall fill the circular room. Sister Deidre walks in.
"Come on, girls," she snaps. "Morning Mass has almost begun, and you know well what happens to those who aren't punctual."
"Yes, Sister," they answer in unison, each hanging up their coat on the rack before making the sign of the cross and exiting through the tall door at the head of the Sitting Room.
They walk in silence down the empty corridor. When they reach the Chapel, Sister Deidre on their heels, they funnel into the grand building respectfully. When they reach their pew they each drop down to one knee, a sign of respect for the altar, and make the sign of the cross again before standing and filing neatly into the pew.
When they take their seats, each of them sweeps her skirt underneath her so that it sits neatly and doesn't fan out.
Violet crosses her legs and places her hands in her lap, staring down at the dark skirt she wears and its contrast with the starched white shirt she has buttoned up to the top, and the dark-colored sweater on top of it.
A draft comes into the elaborately decorated Chapel and Violet shivers as she looks around at the ancient, dark wooden fixtures and ornate jeweled fittings. There is no heat in the Chapel.
Georgia wraps her arms around herself, hoping for warmth, as the Mass begins. Clementine pulls her elbows close and tucks them into her sides. Violet simply shivers, digs her fingernails into the soft skin of her palm, and thinks about the morning so far.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned, she thinks and smiles to herself.
At some point a few moments later, the Sisters stand and begin the gathering song. We are instructed to turn to Holy God, We Praise Thy Name.
"Holy God, we praise Thy Name," drone the people in the Church. "Lord of all, we bow before Thee!"
An ethereal sound fills the Chapel as the dark sound of singing bounces off of the ceiling and walls. Violet, Clementine, and Georgia are not so much singing as they are mumbling, but their favorite seats in the back pew prevent them from being chastised for this.
Georgia sighs. Clementine rolls her eyes back in her head. Violet wishes she was out on the streets again, instead of here.
Finally, the priest, deacon, and altar servers enter the Chapel. The priest arrives at the altar and makes the sign of the Cross.
"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit," he says in a deep monotonous voice.
"Amen," comes the voice of the people, a dark and thick sound.
After Mass, Violet, Georgia, and Clementine must go to their first class, Choral Music. They all dread going; their teacher is the dreaded Sister Melania. Sister Melania is an ancient old woman with a pinched voice, stiff stature, and unpleasant demeanor.
As Clementine, Georgia, and Violet drag their feet all the way to the Chamber Hall for Choral Music, a gust of wind passes over the rooftops of New York City, and somewhere below them, the small huddled figure of Spot Conlon moves…
Kid Blink is peddling his newspapers like it is any normal day. And in fact, for him, it is a normal day. How in the world could he know that somewhere inside the marble halls of Sacred Heart, a slow transformation is taking place inside the body of his half-sister, Violet Lourdes?
"Huge earthquake," he calls to the unpleasant-looking man standing a few feet away. "Hundreds dead. Government devastated."
The man looks like he may take interest and Blink walks over to him, grinning genuinely at him. "One bit, sir," he says politely.
The man nods, pursing his teeth and pulls a coin from his pocket, tossing it to Kid Blink and accepting the paper as he hands it to him. The man promptly opens the paper and, after reading the contents, looks up in rage.
He starts toward Blink, who is already on his quick way away, darting through the crowds and onto the even more crowded opposite side of the street.
He smiles to himself as he walks on jauntily. He is having a good day. He has sold a lot of papers. It's only halfway through the morning and he only has twenty papes left.
When he is finished a few hours later, he retires to his favorite pub, The New Prayer. It's the one just a few short stumbles away from the Lodging House. The pub is filled with smoky air, floosy women, and bartenders who don't care how old you are as long as you tip well.
And with the way the day has gone, he will certainly be able to tip well. He whistles and jangles the change in his pockets as the walks the familiar route to The New Prayer.
Violet yawns and rests her head on her hand, letting her black hair fall between her fingers.
"Absolution," continues Sister Mary Clarence. "is part of the Sacrament of Penance. It takes place when a priest declares that your sins have been atoned for. Take note that only a member of the clergy can declare absolution. And this is because?"
Shay Bourne raises her hand. "Because the clergy are divinely appointed."
"That is correct," says Sister Mary Clarence. "Very well, Miss Bourne."
Violet tries to roll her eyes without attracting the Sister's attention. Not only is Violet sleepy, she is also very irritable, and doesn't care to deal with the incessant know-it-all-ness of Shay Bourne.
"Now," continues Sister. "Let us recite the Act of Contrition, in ordinance with the Sacrament of Penance."
Violet and Georgia sigh and Clementine looks around in boredom.
"Oh my God, I am sorry for my sins," chants the class. Their voices echo around the tall stone ceilings. "In choosing to sin and failing to do good, I have sinned against You and Your Church…"
After the prayer, Violet slips back into her usual mid-morning stupor. "Miss Lourdes? Are you paying full attention, pray tell?" Sister Mary Clarence directs at her a few moments later.
Violet is shaken from her daydream. "Yes, Sister."
"Then will you please answer my question, Miss Lourdes?" Sister Mary Clarence has a very agitating habit of repeating names constantly.
"May I ask you to repeat it, Sister?" asks Violet, slightly mocking the Sister.
Sister Mary Clarence closes her eyes in annoyance. "You may be excused to the hall, madam," she says angrily through clenched teeth.
Violet didn't need telling twice. Once in the hall, she immediately walked back to the dormitories. She didn't have a lot of time but she knew what she had to do. Having been in Sister Mary Clarence's classes before, she was aware of the fact that she wouldn't be invited back into the classroom before class ended because of her bad behavior.
She also knew that Sister Mary Clarence had it out for her, but wouldn't report her to the Headmistress. She just wanted to cause as much turmoil as possible, and used Violet to do just this.
Walking through the thick red velvet curtain that separated the Sitting Room from the Upper School Dormitories, Violet quickly walked over to her small bed and reached under the mattress for the small bag that she'd stowed there during the hall time between Mass and First Classes.
She opened it with careful fingers, sliding the contents out onto her palm. She counted it again.
10, 20, 20, 40. It was all still there, all her hush money and a little extra besides for "favors." Spot Conlon may have more than half a brain, but he was more than a little paranoid.
It wasn't Violet's place to wonder why this was, but she did anyway, and asked him when she thought that the answer might slip out. Her cunning was often in vain, however, because Conlon indeed had more than half of a brain.
She sighed and walked over to the frosted window at the end of the row of beds. The wind was blowing hard now, and the small trees were almost bent over double in the gustiness. Unlocking the window with a little elbow grease, Violet slid the glass open and pushed herself onto the ledge.
She swung her feet out lithely and jumped smoothly to the ground.
It was precisely 10:00 a.m.; Violet was quite punctual and so was Leon Pagan. Leon was one of Spot's chums, a muscular blonde boy with a sweet demeanor and limited amount of brain cells.
But, you couldn't help but like Leon; he had a sort of seductive power of her his prey—er, friends.
Violet leaned up against the building and braced her arms around her because of the cold.
Finally, a mere five minutes later that felt exponentially longer to Violet, Leon arrived. He was walking with Spot and another of their minions, Vince.
"Hey, there, Vi," said Spot in his typical Brooklyn twang, an arrogant smile on his face.
He sauntered over to Violet and took her by the waist, kissing her once on each cheek.
"Spot," she said shortly, trying to be polite but cold.
The others greeted her in the same manor. This was where she got annoyed with the boys: they didn't know the difference between a one-night stand for money and daytime romance. Boys. So assumptive.
"So," says Spot smoothly. "We gots a favor to ask."
"Just say it," Violet replies. "I haven't got a lot of time."
"Skipping class again?" he asks and winks. She sends him a winning smile, hoping that this will get him in a good mood. "Look. This one ain't gonna be easy."
"When have you ever known me to quit when things got hard?"
"That can be taken multiple ways," he says. "But I'll just choose to interpret it correctly."
"You know, you really shouldn't be a newsboy. You're a thousand times too smart," Violet compliments him. "No offense," she says to Leon and Vince. They nod appreciatively.
"Well, thank you," he says diplomatically, and Violet tries not to laugh. He falls for it every time.
She bites her lip and looks up to meet Leon's gaze. He smirks at her and his eyes twinkle. Leon has very observant eyes, dark brown and almost red in color, at first glance they are reminiscent of puddles of dried blood.
"Anyways," continues Spot. "I need some score. My supply's gettin' pretty low and, ah." He hikes a thumb at the other two. "You know how they get."
Violet snorts, looking at them. "I know how you get, Spot."
He takes a step forward so that he is closer to her. He places a hand on her chest. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asks.
"Oh, nothing," she whispers seductively into his ear, before turning and sashaying back through the window. "Meet you tomorrow? Same time, same place?"
"Yeah," he murmurs, looking slightly crestfallen. Leon and Vince snigger and he punches both of them swiftly on the arm before turning to leave.
Violet's day passes in a slow haze. When it is finally over, her, Clementine, and Georgia ascend up the stairs slowly to the dormitories. When they finally reach them, Clementine bounces happily onto her bed, Georgia sprawls on hers and Violet lays back on hers, closing her eyes briefly.
"Oh," says Clementine. "You never told us about this morning, Vi."
"Yeah," concurs Georgia. "We need to know what happened."
Violet grins proudly. "Nothing unusual. Got some score. The pure stuff, and real cheap. Used a certain method of, ah, bargaining." The others giggle naughtily. "So I basically got back my money's worth. Good thing I paid attention all those years in Arithmatic."
The others grimace at the thought of the tedious years of required math.
"Are you going to share with us?" ask Georgia.
"Wish I could, Geo, girl," says Violet sadly. "But I have to redistribute. Spot Conlon asked me to get some."
Clementine grins. "So you're going to tell him all the trouble you went through to get it, eh?"
"That's right," smiles Violet. "And I know he'll pay me extra for it. The boy's a sucker. More than half a brain, my—"
Just then Shay Bourne walks in with her posse: Rhoda, Marguerite, Dovie, and Nora.
Shay flicks her silky blonde hair behind her and gives the three sprawled on their beds a dirty look.
"Come on," she says to the girls behind her. "Let's go to the washroom. It's almost time for supper."
They exit, and walk down to the marble washroom, with its fine gold-leaf sinks and porcelain tubs.
At their exit, Violet seizes her chance to get out for the evening. "Irving Hall anyone?" she asks and the others stand in excitement. They quickly scale out of the window with ease, positioning it so that it isn't possible to tell that it's open, but they can still get through on their way back.
Their feet hit the familiar dirty Manhattan sidewalk and Violet feels once again at home as she breathes in the dirty and cold New York City air and surveys the dangerous and dark street corners.
Clementine, who has always been anxious, looks around nervously, wishing that they were back in their dormitories, warm and comfortable, instead of on the worrisome streets going to Irving Hall, sure to be loud and packed with perverts.
Georgia, with her head in the clouds, is slightly annoyed at the fact that they are going to Irving Hall again, and wishes that they could go somewhere new for once. Somewhere, maybe, that Violet's brother might be. She slowly melts away as she thinks of him.
Back at the Convent, Shay Bourne and her minions have just walked back into the dormitory to find it mysteriously empty. Nora and Marguerite whip their amber-haired heads through the doorway to the Sitting Room and look for Violet. But they are nowhere to be found.
As Georgia giggles hoarsely at something that Clementine and Violet are saying, Shay narrows her eyes and sighs exasperatedly.
In Brooklyn, Spot sits down on the steps outside the Brooklyn Newsboys Lodging House and cradles his clammy head in his hands. He needs a fix, and fast.
At the New Prayer, Kid Blink downs his fourth beer of the evening alone, enjoying its sparkling descent into his stomach. He sighs happily and leans back in his chair.
Overhead, they are all being watched, carefully, patiently.
~Another Author's Note:
The Convent of the Sacred Heart is an actual school in Manhattan. It was founded in 1881 as a convent (where girls become nuns) but in my story, which takes place in 1904, it's just a Catholic girls' boarding school and they aren't learning to become nuns. Sacred Heart is still open today, and it is a very prestigious (and expensive) Catholic school in NYC. One of its graduates is Lady GaGa. For more information, go to .
lovelovelove.