CHAPTER 1
A/N Hi, Im not Everest. Wait, no that introduction sucks. Makes it sound like I'm a hacker. Hi, I didn't hack Everest. Promise. My name is Rose Wyatt. You probably recognize my name from Everest's author's notes. I'm her editor (and best friend, but that's besides the point). Anyways, for a while (like, since TFFY was first uploaded back in May) Everest has been urging me to write my own fic and publish it on the XXT3ARS-OF-BLOODXX account. For a while, I made excuses, claiming I didn't have time. I didn't really want to. But then summer rolled around and eventually I got bored. And… well I started writing this fic. In secret. But Everest was randomly going around my Google Drive trying to find a Mean Girls bootleg (which I sent her, but she claimed she didn't get it and was trying to send it herself) and found the document I was writing this untitled Sprace fic on. And for the past week she's been begging me nonstop to post it. So… here it is. I'm still not entirely sure on what the plot will entirely be (I've really just been editing and re-editing the first two chapters for a while, on top of editing Everest's stories) but it's going to be a Sprace fic, and it takes place during and after the strike, starting roughly right before Watch What Happens Reprise. So yeah. Here goes.
It's a long walk from Manhattan to Brooklyn.
Most people don't realize that. You don't really realize that until you've lived in New York. And most rich folk don't realize that either, since they're always taking carriages and trolleys and such to get places. It's almost like they're allergic to walking.
But when you've lived on the streets of New York, you know how long a walk it is. Three. Freaking. Hours. Three hours just to go somewhere you don't want to go to. Shouldn't go to. Where you definitely won't be welcome. I'm not even sure why I agreed to this. I could have gone to any other burough of New York. Flushing, Queens, Richmond, the Bronx, but no. I got stuck with Brooklyn.
"Race." Davey had told me. "Look at Wiesel"
I looked. At first, it just looked like the same bitter old man who sold us papes everyday. The same man who helped attack us yesterday, to beat us bloody, to arrest Crutchie. I couldn't see any difference Davey was pointing out, besides the injuries he bore. Good. I saw he had a bruise on his cheek, right where I had kicked him, before the Delancies had pulled me away, knocked me to the ground, and kept beating me until they were called over to help arrest Crutchie.
But besides the injuries, Wiesel looked no different.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, squinting my eyes.
"His eyes, Race. His facial expression! Don't you see it?"
And it clicked. I saw. He was terrified. Legitimately afraid we were going to pull something again.
And before I could respond, Davey threw down his papes and walked away to tell the others what he had just told me. I quickly followed suit.
I was craving a cigar in the worst way. Albert keeps stealing mine, and I just ran out yesterday. We kept passing people and stores with them. It would be so easy to steal a box of Coronas, but I knew I couldn't. We had to keep moving.
We had all gathered up Jacobi's Deli, battered in beaten, and tired, thinking of what to do. And then Katherine came in with a game changer. Front page of the New York Sun. We were famous, and the strike was far from over. It couldn't be over. Not for the new Kings of New York.
I could tell I wasn't the only one itching to steal something. Jojo was trudging along beside me, but I've known him long enough to know that he was starving from the way he fidgeted and looked at every restaurant and store and fruit stand we passed. And seeing this made me realize how hungry I was too. But that was just life on the streets. We were used to it. But still… it would be so easy just to… no. We had to keep moving.
Davey decided who went where. I tuned him out a bit, but eventually he had called every borough except for one.
Oh god, no, not that one. I thought, right as Davey called out.
"Race, Jojo, you guys take Brooklyn."
Jojo tried to protest, but Davey cut him off. "Katherine, Les, and I will go find Jack. I have a feeling he's hiding out at Medda's, so we can kill two birds with one stone and ask if we can use the theatre for the rally. Now go! Bring everyone back to the theatre at 10 tonight!"
"How far are we?" Jojo whined.
I just shrugged, I had been to Brooklyn once before, but it was years ago, and it wasn't of my own free will. I had no idea how close or far we were to Brooklyn.
It felt like we were walking forever. Hours. Days maybe. And we had the most important job. All the others refused to back us unless Brooklyn was backing us. So, all the other guys were going to lie and say they would be there. But if Brooklyn didn't show? Then they would definitely turn us, and we wouldn't have a chance.
"Race! Look!" Jojo suddenly shouted. He bolted across the street. I lost sight of him and immediately started running after him. The dang kid was going to get himself hit by a carriage. I darted between people and horses and carriages and who knows what else. I could hear Jojo shouting my name excitedly but couldn't tell where it was coming from. The sounds of the ever-busy Manhattan streets drowned him out. I stood and looked around, hoping for a fire escape I could climb to get a better view. I was so focused on finding a high place that I almost missed the trolley hurtling towards me. I started to run away, but someone grabbed me by the arm and yanked me onto the trolley.
Oh god. I thought. It's probably Snyder or Wiesel or the Delancies. Someone to beat me bloody and lock me up in The Refuge, just like they did to Crutchie.
But when I looked to see who was crazy enough to drag me onto a trolley hurtling down the street at 35 miles an hour, I saw none other than Jojo's smiling face.
I groaned and stood up. "You coulda gotten the both of us killed, ya know that, right?"
"But I didn't." he replied smugly.
I rolled my eyes and found two seats next to each other, far in the back where no one was likely to realize we snuck on. I sat down. "Do you know if this even goes to Brooklyn? It could be takin' us to Pennsylvania for God's sake."
Jojo shrugged. "Who knows. We just gotta keep an eye on what's outside I guess."
So we do. And though we still ain't sure, it looks like we're moving towards the general direction of Brooklyn.
After about 10 minutes, a fat man in a fancy suit that just screamed "I ain't ever worked a day in my life and I'm still richer than you!" sat down next to me and Jojo. He took one look at us and got up, his face displaying disgust, and sat in front of us instead, as if he was allergic to dirty, broke newsies. We pretended not to notice. But I didn't mind his rudeness. Not in the face of his generosity.
After all, he hadn't noticed at all when I silently pulled the small box of cigars from his pocket.
A/N Welp, that's it for the first chapter! Thank you all so much for reading, please review and give me ideas and pointers if you can, Everest's "go with the flow" and "adverbs make everything more interesting" advice can only take me so far.
Rose out.
*Mic drop*
Wait actually no that was stupid don't publish that part of the author's notes Ev.