Disclaimer: Ok, so Disney owns David, Meyer, Esther, Sarah, and Les Jacobs. They also own Jack.
A/N: AN: This was originally a song fic to Simple Plan's 'Perfect' but ffn is cracking down on song lyrics so I replaced any lyrics with italicized one. Just in case that will get you a little better feel for the story
Perfect
By Hotshot
David Jacobs stood on the roof of his family's tenement building. His vest pockets were heavy with coins, a pocket watch hung out of one pocket only the chain keeping it from being lost. His clothes were crumpled and dirty from the days work. Two copies he'd failed to sell were still clutched in one hand, despite the fact that he'd returned home over an hour ago. In the other hand he held one of the tomatoes from his family's rooftop garden. He dropped the papers to the roof and pitched the tomato as far as he could.
He smirked for a moment as he heard a telltale splat as it hit something far off in the distance. He smirked after hearing a yell; he'd hit some poor unfortunate person that had been walking late at night. That would be a story to tell the guys the next day. His parents would surely disapprove, but didn't they disapprove of everything he did these days. The smirk slowly dissolved into a semi frown. His eyes reflected the moonlight, or that of it that leaked through the clouds. To any that were watching him his eyes would look sad, and faraway.
After a moment or two of staring into the distance, his attention caught only by the emptiness, he came back to reality. He picked another ripe tomato off of the pathetic, frail plant from which they grew. He took a deep breath and readied to pitch it out into the distance.
1
He knew the facts. His parents had a life planned for him when he was born. They had certain expectations of him, and had instilled those expectations until they became his own. They wanted him to grow up and get nothing but the best grades in school. They wanted him to go to a university, even if it drained all of their money. They wanted him to become one of those high-ranking jobs; a lawyer, doctor, reporter, basically anything that would help him rise above the world in which he was born.
It had gone well at first. Through school he himself expected nothing but A's and worked harder than imaginable. He was in no way smarter than people in his class, but he drilled himself and pushed himself to work harder than any of the others. Nothing but the top grades was acceptable, and he'd tortured himself mentally and physically when he failed.
His father had been the one to really drive him on. When David was just starting school he'd been the one to scream and dole out punishments if grades weren't perfect. "The plan, David," he'd say often enough, "We have to stick with the plan."
Of course he was also the reason David had fallen out of the plan as well. He'd been fired due to an injury at the factory. David was upset about having to leave school to work. His father had tried just living on Sarah and Esther's meager paychecks for a while but it wasn't enough. They'd been forced to put the plan on hold and make David work.
And just look what had happened to him because of that. Being forced to drop the plan was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
1
His father hadn't been worried when he started. His father often said he was too far above the work he was doing to actually enjoy it. He was right though. David didn't particularly enjoy working on the streets. He didn't enjoy the lies he had to tell, or the people he had to work with.
That all changed when the strike started. It gave him a reason to work, a reason behind his fighting. Even during the first day bonds grew. His father forayed him from taking part in the strike. It was the first time in his life he'd ignored the man's advice.
Even after the strike his father wasn't proud. He got back his job eventually and ordered his children back to school. Les was a good little kid. He walked there with David and Sarah each morning. They were the only ones to stay. David left as soon as they entered the building to sell. The walls of the school that had seemed like a second home to him for so long now did nothing but confine him.
1
"I'm making money," David had insisted that evening at dinner, "isn't that what you want?"
"What I want is for you to be in school getting your education?" Mayer insisted, taking a sip of his soup.
"I had an education." David glared across the table, "Papa, some of the guys have less of an education than I do and they're still smarter. I'm making a living doing this."
"A living? Is that what they call it these days?" Mayer asked, "David, you bring home two dollars a day at most. If you go back to school and apply yourself you can go to college and become a doctor or something. You'd be making a lot more than a measly two dollars a day!"
"But I love doing this Papa, I don't care."
"You have to stick to the plan, David. If you go back to school you'll get used to it again. You're a student David. You always will be."
"No I'm not!" David yelled standing up, "I'm a newsie and you can't change that!"
1
He'd made mistakes while being a newsie; that was for sure. He was incredibly lucky that he hadn't gotten himself and his siblings arrested in the rally. The other stunts he and Jack had pulled during the strike were also more than enough to get him thrown in the refuge for a few months. He'd never been caught, luckily.
Over the past few months, since the strike ended, they'd done more stuff, nothing quite as stupid, but close. David and Mayer's relationship began to slide. There were too many times where David just didn't care what his father thought.
David hated the fact that his father thought he was some perfect, do-no-wrong child. It really wasn't who he was. He'd discovered himself in the newsies and lost the old shell he'd lived in, the good student one.
1
David's stomach was clenched in a knot as he stood on the roof. He squeezed the tomato lightly in his hand as he thought back. Had it really been so long ago that he'd thought of his father as perfect? Was he really changing that much?
David spent every day with a pain he kept hidden. It hurt him a lot to know that his father didn't support his decisions, that his father didn't trust him. Mayer had thought David was just going through a phase, and that he'd grow out of it. Months had passed and David was only driving himself farther from a return to school. It had been a few weeks ago now that David had asked his father what he thought of his decision to stay a newsie. His father showed nothing near the support he'd hoped for, nothing but being sure David would change his mind.
David thought back to the days when he'd been a little kid. Life had been so easy back then. Mayer had seemed like the tall, undefeatable hero that Les probably saw him as now. David had to admit that his father had looked the part back then. He'd been strong, smart, and looked the part of a perfect person. But David had grown older and so had Mayer. Mayer now looked old, and tired. David was taller than he was, almost undoubtedly stronger and faster as well. David had looked at his father that night before dinner and wished he could still look at Mayer as his hero.
He'd been one in the sense of his actions for longer. He was so brave, facing the fact that he was jobless and knowing right away what to do. Now he was second to Jack whose ideas were fresh and new. All his childhood notions had drifted away without him noticing.
1
He nearly cried remembering all the time he had spent with Mayer when he'd been younger. When he and Sarah were little he'd be the one to bounce around their dad the minute he stepped in the front door after work. Sarah was more the one to sit back and wait for him to talk to her. Even when he'd started school he'd still sit and tell Mayer about his day, and what his father was doing at work. Mayer was the only one who ever helped him with his studies, and he'd get upset if anyone else tried to help him. Those days had gradually come slower as he was forced to drop out of school. Still, during the strike and for a while after they would talk about the day over dinner. Gradually the discussions decreased and arguments started, until they completed almost every meal.
He'd tried to fix it, really. He'd tried to make his father proud of him. Mayer didn't care how many papers he sold every day or how fast he sold them. The things that mattered so greatly to David meant nothing to him.
"You don't even care about me," David had said one day.
"I do," Mayer insisted, "just not about you selling papers."
1
Papers became harder to sell the year after the strike, bad headlines every day. David struggled to sell all of his papers during the day and succeeded only about half of the time. He sold better than most though, many days even outselling Jack. He sold more papers than the others, though. He sold a lot no matter how bad the weather was or how few people were on the street. He managed other odd jobs on the streets too. Had he done so well in the beginning his parents would have been so proud.
It was the only reason he tried now, to make his father proud. He'd been so disappointed in David. In the beginning David didn't care but as time passed the only thing David wanted was to make his father proud, to prove he could make a living. No matter what he did it wasn't good enough. Mayer wanted him back in school, and David knew he would never be able to excel in school again, after all the experiences he'd had.
The fights were more than he could take. Every time school, work, even reading came up it started an argument. Anything that could be connected to what Mayer thought David was doing wrong. David tried to tell himself everything would be fine, but he knew deep down that it wouldn't.
"Why can't you just be proud of me?" he'd asked that night after dinner, "Any other parent would be proud of their son for being able to do so much."
"Because you could do so much more in school, David. I don't want to see you grow up to be some bum on the streets trying to sell papers. You can't be a newsie forever, David. When it's over, then what will you do?"
"You don't get it. I'm doing this for
you. For once I want to be able to make you proud of what I can do.
I want you to respect me for working like I did for you when I was a kid.
I don't get, it do nothing but work but I'm never gonna be good enough."
1
He'd made mistakes with his family too. After deciding to stay a newsie he'd neglected the chores that were normal between him and his siblings. He'd forgotten all about picking Les up from school on several occasion, and forgotten to walk Sarah home from work on the weekends. He ignored his parents' rules and broke curfew several times each week. He didn't care about his responsibilities around the house and focused almost solely on getting money to support them.
Even when he offered his help now they just shrugged it off, expecting that he'd forget what he promised by the time it had to be done. Sarah was disappointed, and his mother sad. Les was too little to understand his actions, like he always seemed to be, and Mayer was just mad. It was a mess at home. He was sure that if they weren't forced to care about him because he was family he would have been out on the streets fast.
1
The biggest fight of them all had occurred that night between him and Mayer, most of it occurring after dinner. His entire lifestyle was being brought under his father's scrutiny.
"No David, it will never be good enough. You messed up your life with your own decisions. I wanted nothing to do with those decisions. I wanted you to stay on the right track and get thought your schooling. I wanted you to be able to get out of this hell-hole place that we live and be able to make something better of yourself. You were on your way there David; you were so close. But now look at how bad you've gone and messed everything up. You're a disgrace to this family."
There was a collective gasp from everyone present. It was something they all knew deep in their hearts that was being thought but no one had ever said it out loud. It seemed that to do that would make it true. Even at hearing it from his mouth Mayer even looked a little shocked.
David felt as though he'd been slapped. He wanted his father to take back what he'd said, and it looked as though Mayer wanted the same thing. He wanted to go back to where he had been last year. Now he'd gladly go back to school. He'd gladly accept the future his parents wanted for him, if those words could only have never been said. Nothing could make things go back to the way they had been, ever.
"I…" he started, "Dad, I…"
Mayer stood from his chair, suddenly unable to look David in the eves. He turned away from his son, toward the door of the bedroom his wife and he shared. He didn't look over his shoulder once as he began to walk.
"Dad, please?" David said. His voice shook as he spoke.
Mayer stopped in the doorway but didn't turn around.
"You just don't understand," David managed.
Mayer took a step into the room and shut the door behind him. David almost at the same time bolted toward the window and out onto the fire escape, leaving the rest of his stunned family behind.
1
Everything was gone between him and his father, he realized. There was no getting any of it back. No matter how hard he tried and how much he wanted to he couldn't go back to before that was said. He couldn't go back to the loving relationship he'd once had with his father. They'd have to start again from scratch.
He knew his job as a newsie wasn't going to last forever. He'd known since the day he'd decided to become one permanently. He also knew that when he was done with it he had a job waiting at the Sun. Denton had offered to pull a few strings to help him get started, completed school education or not. It was one of the few things he'd neglected to ever tell his parents. Only for the reason that he wasn't sure that was what he wanted.
It was too late to fix anything that he'd done to anyone. Too late to apologize for neglecting his chores and ignoring his parents rules. There was nothing that could be done about it, nothing that could make up for all of it. He couldn't go back to being good- David. He was stuck in his own spot, and though it felt completely normal, he also felt horrible because of the way it had affected everyone else in his life.
He wanted to apologize for everything he'd done. He wanted to be the perfect son. He wanted to but it wasn't possible. He knew it as well as them; it just wasn't who he was anymore. No matter how hard he wanted to be that straight-A student, that perfect child it just wasn't him.
1
David relaxed his hand around the bright red tomato. He dropped it carefully into the basket his mother left up there; she'd need it to feed the family tomorrow. He pulled the small money pouch he carried out of one pocket and placed his pocket watch into the opposite one. He straightened his clothes to the best of his ability and ran a hand through his hair.
It wasn't him. He wasn't a perfect child or a perfect student. He was perfect at being himself, nothing more. He knew the entire matter would get resolved eventually. His family would accept it was what he wanted. Maybe if he told them about the offer from Denton they'd understand, they'd be a little more compassionate.
Or maybe not, but either way they'd stop trying to change him eventually. Maybe he needed to spend a little time away from home. He made more than enough to stay at the lodging house for a while. He'd still drop off money at his house every day; he just wouldn't stay there. If he stayed at the lodging house he might relieve some of the stress he realized his father must have been under. It didn't have to be forever, just for a little while. It would be better for everyone. He'd stay home tonight, and tomorrow he'd talk to Jack about staying with the boys.
He stared into the distance, once again lost in the emptiness of the world in front of him. It was beautiful when it was dark, and quiet, well… sort of quiet. It was New York City after all, a city that never slept. Another deep breath and another. He climbed carefully over the edge of the roof and down the fire escape. He climbed into the apartment, which had long since been silent, everyone asleep. He emptied his money pouch on the counter, leaving enough in the pouch to buy his papers the next morning.
As much as he hated his parents, especially his father for disapproving of all he did he loved them. He didn't care that they hated his actions, he enjoyed them. He didn't have to rely on them and they all knew it. One day they'd see that although his actions weren't what they wanted they really had made a perfect life for him.
Fin
A/N: Again, I believe the no song lyrics policy makes this story suck, but people liked it well enough originally. Leave a review.