Disclaimer: I don't own the song.the Atari's do. I own the plot.I think.unless I got it from someone else and I just haven't realized it yet. I also changed the lyrics slightly because its kinda hard for the newsies to sing 80's songs.so I changed it to Medda's songs, and the -acts- insert was also because they couldn't really quote movies.
A/N: currently I'm not sure if this is going to be a one shot or a chaptered story.I'm relying on reviews to decide. I'm serious too.if you don't review.I will not feel the urge to update.then the story will just.die. So please review if you like the story and think I should continue with it.oh hell just review.
Jack rolled out of the small bed of his one-room apartment. Today he would start the first day of his new job. He buttoned up the collar of his blue-gray suit as he stared at his reflection. He blond hair looked dull but neatly brushed. His eyes had lost their flavor for life as he entered the working world of walls and restrictions. It was hard to believe that only a year ago he was taking on the most powerful man in New York City. Running the streets without anyone to tell him he couldn't. Just living his life with his best friends the way he wanted. Why had he ever walked away from the newsies saying he wanted a "real job"? He now realized that being a newsie was the best job he could ever get without an education. But he also realized that he couldn't be a newsie forever, because who would rather buy a paper from a twenty-year-old instead of a thirteen-year-old? For now, he would just have to stick to this job choice he made in his attempts to be grown up. He thought back on those days of the strike, when he was the leader of almost every working kid in the city.
Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer.
It was the best I ever had.
There were choruses and sing-alongs
and that unspoken feeling
of knowing that right now is all that matters.
He couldn't go back to the newsies now, not after the way he left. Not after a year of trying to make it for himself, bouncing from one job to another. He missed living in the lodging house with all his friends that became almost like brothers to him.
All the nights we stayed up talking
listening to Medda's songs,
and quoting lines from all the acts that we love.
It still brings a smile to my face.
Jack awoke himself from his thoughts and headed out the door. He knew that today he would probably see some of his old newsies, and to tell the truth, he was looking forward to it. He missed those guys, but he was also dreading having them see him all dressed up like he was. He remembered the looks he got from them when they saw him dressed as a scab during the strike. But that was different. This had nothing to do with them. It was his own life and this was how he decided he should live it. He did know one thing, he wished he could live like them again. Carefree and happy, even though they all pretended to be mad at the fact that they had to sell everyday for the whole year in any weather, he knew that they enjoyed the thrill of living on their own. Nobody to tie them down, except for each other.
I guess when it comes down to it
being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up.
These are the best days of our lives.
The only thing that matters is just following your heart
and eventually you'll get it right.