Porcelain

By: Sweetest Melody

Summary: How hard is it to find your brother in New York City when all you know is that he might be a news boy there? Seemingly impossible, but with a little luck and the help of one of our favorite newsies, Nora's attempt becomes more than she expected. [pre-strike]

Chapter 1: New York, New York

"This is crazy," Nora muttered to herself as she searched the streets again. She had arrived in New York City the morning prior on a mission, one that, some thirty hours later she was already prepared to give up on. After spending a terrifying evening sleeping in an alley, she picked herself up and grabbed her bag as she began her search again. "Just today more, than you can go back to the comforts of the world you were raised in." Nora began wandering the streets aimlessly as a voice in the back of her head argued with her. 'What about Finn? Doesn't he deserve to go back to the life he was raised in? And he's been without it for six year, you only six weeks!'

Nora sighed. She didn't know for sure what had happened to the older brother she had adored for years, Finn. For all she knew he was a rich bastard living a better life than she did. 'Hardly likely,' the voice added. The overwhelming voice of reason reminded her awfully of Brion, her other brother, the younger one. He was always the logical one… 'and look where logic landed him. Besides,' the voice continued 'there is no way to find a boy you haven't seen in over half a decade in a city this size in two days.' Nora silently cursed the voice, as she had always cursed Brion for being right.

And then she spotted him; a boy maybe a year or two older than her fifteen years, with dark features. He stood erect against a fencepost with a pipe in his mouth and a stack of newspapers folded under his left arm. Occasionally, he would turn around and stare behind him. Nora found this unusual until she realized he was perched on the outer fence of a horse racetrack.

She must have been staring at him for a long time, or at least long enough for the boy to notice. For several moments they stood eyes locked, staring at each other. "Well better be now," Nora mentally prepared herself as she walked over to him. "Hi," she said.

"Hey. You wanna buy one or somethin'?"

"Well how much are they?" Nora asked feigning interest.

"Penny a pape."

Nora tried to remember where her money was hidden in this dress. It was a simple but nice frock. Normally she would just keep her money in her bag, but fear of New York City had gotten the best of her. She didn't want to be penniless if her bag was stolen, which she was sure it would be taken from her at any moment. Nora thought for a moment and then she remembered, proceeding to stick her hand down the front of her dress. The Newsboy looked shocked as she produced a coin. She handed to him and he pocketed it, still staring at her in utter dismay. Nora smiled inwardly to herself. "Well, aren't you forgetting something?"

"Oh yea," he muttered as he made to hand her a paper and the rest crumpled to the ground in a heap.

"Oh, let me help you."

"Thanks," he muttered as she handed him his newspapers.

Nora took a few steps away and opened her paper. "Nice paper," she said casually as she scanned the articles.

"Sure," the newsboy replied.

"No really. Some great headlines."

"You's kidding me now. Old Joe lost his headline writer to the enemy."

"Old Joe? The enemy?" Nora questioned innocently, determined to make the conversation last as long as it took.

"Oh yeah, Old Joe, he owns the paper, The World News. Maybe you heard of him, Joseph Pulitzer?" Nora shook her head no. She supposed she had at one point heard of Joseph Pulitzer, but she never really paid attention to current events. "Well he owns this pape here. And the enemy's the opposing paper see? Run by William Randolph Hearst. Ever heard of him?"

"Maybe. Maybe I've heard of him."

"But not Old Joe?" Nora shrugged. "Well lookie there. Most people have heard of him at least. Anyway Hearst and Pulitzer is always going at each other, through these papes here of course."

"Oh. I see. Heavy competition," Nora commented, half her face impeded by the paper in her hands.

"That's some accent you got," he observed.

"I could say the same about you."

"I gottsa New York accent. Born and raised right here in the city. But you's? Where's that accent of yours from?"

"Same place I am."

"Yea? And where's that?" The newsboy leaned forward, as if to hear some secret she had to share.

Amused by him, Nora leaned forward until the newspaper was the only thing preventing their noses from touching. "Chicago."

Nora held her breathe. The boy breathed out hard as he pulled back. "Ain't that out west?" Nora lowered the paper, as she stood up straight, and nodded. "You's a long way from home, dontchya think?"

'Now or never…' "Yea, I am. I'm actually looking for someone... and well I was hoping you could help me."

"Hmm? You don't even know me. How could I help ya?"

"You're a newsboy, aren't ya?"

"Yea." He took a puff of his cigar and exhaled.

"Are you sure you should be smoking that thing?" The boy raised his eyebrows at her. "Anyway, I'm looking for another newsboy, my brother. Maybe you've heard of him. His name's Finn. I haven't seen him in a fair few years but he said he'd come to New York City, sell papers like he did back home in Chicago."

"Finn, eh? I dunno no newsie by that name."

"Oh. I see." Nora folded the paper up. So much for that; maybe New York was just too big. Aunt Eilis would gladly take her early. "Well, thank you for the paper."

Nora began walking away, but the boy continued talking. "See the thing is we don't really go by our real names, not most of us at least. So I might know this… whatchya say his name was, Finn? I might know him, but by a different name, see?"

"Oh?" Nora turned around. Maybe this would work after all, crazy at it seemed. There must be some hundreds of thousands of people in this city; what are the odds that she would actually find her brother? Aunt Eilis could wait.

"Yea, see me real name's Anthony, but all da newsies call me Racetrack."

"Newsies?"

"Yeah, it's what we call ourselves, 'stead of newsboys, see?."

"Oh."

"Yea."

"So which do you prefer to be called, Anthony or Racetrack?"

"Racetrack's me name, just not officially."

"Well Racetrack. I'm Nora." She boldly stuck out her hand. The boy shook it sheepishly. "So are you gonna help me or not?"

The boy took one last puff of his cigar before putting it away. An elderly man approached him. "Buy a pape sir?" The man thought a moment and grabbed a coin from his pocket. Racetrack handed him a paper and he threw the coin, rushing away without even bothering to notice if Race had caught it. Of course, he hadn't and Race had to reach over to pick up the coin. Placing his papers on the ground, he sat against the fence to think. Several moments later, Nora joined him. "It's a gamble ya know, trying to find one person in all of New York City. I mean, do ya even know what part of the city he's working in? Manhattan? Midtown? Queens? Bronx? East Side?" Nora looked at him and shrugged. She never heard of any of those places before and his face fell when she told him so.

"I never thought of it as a gamble. But I suppose it is a bit like that, eh? I ain't never even heard of any of those places. I'm not much of gambler, see. Whenever I leave things up to chance, they hardly ever work out in my favor. The odds always seem to be against me."

"Well the odds are against you now, but you's in luck, Miss–"

"Oh please, call me Nora. After all, I know your nickname; it's seems only fair that we're casual with each other."

"I suppose. Nora," Racetrack repeated with a smile. "They don't just call me Racetrack because I'm always at the track. See while you might not be a gamblin' girl, I'se most certainly a gambling man."

Nora sighed despite herself. "And how's your luck? Do you ever win your bets?"

"Sometimes it's good. Sometimes it's not. It's all about the feelings, ya know?"

"And now? How is it that you feel?"

"I have a strange feeling the tides have changed and luck is on our side."

Nora stood up eagerly, and stared down at Racestrack in excitement. "So you'll help me."

Racetrack stood up and met tipped his hat to Nora, lowering into a slight bow. "I'll do me best, m'lady." Nora blushed as he stood tall, grabbing his papers.

"Buy a paper sir?" He asked to a passing by a young man dressed up to the nines. 'Finn used to look like that. Maybe I'll get to see him like that again. Racetrack might be some poor, dirty newsboy, but I have a good feeling…" The man rushed by, not even giving poor racetrack a second glance. "Or maybe not…"

A/n: I plan to attempt accents for the newsboys and not one for Nora, even though she does have a Chicago accent just to distinguish the educated from the non-educated. Please Review.

Love, Sam