/ This is my first story I've published so any and all feedback is appreciated. The chapters are pretty short, so I will try to update as often as possible. Thank you so much for reading, enjoy!
PS. I sadly don't own Newsies :(
As stroke after stroke crossed the once blank canvas, a bold sunset quickly transformed from an image in the young man's mind to a remarkable piece of art. The warm magenta for the love he had for his brothers. Red for the dull anger that never leaves. A soft yellow for the everlasting compassion he would never admit he has. The light blue from the sky that was fading teased around the edges. A reminder that happiness only lasts for so long. Lastly, there's the black shadows of the clouds. This represents the memories from his past, that while he tries and tries, he can never seem to truly rid himself of. To any onlooker, it is merely a beautiful painting. To the artist from which it came, it is his deepest secrets and strongest passions on display for all to see.
Stepping back to reflect on his work, Jack glanced around the art room. His eyes landed on a short, blond kid a few eisels down. Unlike the other students, he was sitting on a stool. As Jack's eyes traveled from the boy to his canvas, he noticed it too was different than all the others. It was blank.
Brrrrrriiiinnnngggg! The bell rang signifying the end of the period. All around him, Jack's classmates stampeded to their freedom, the freedom that only lasts for five minutes before another torture starts. Slower than the rest, Jack scrubbed his tie-dye hands with little success of cleaning the stains. Art has invariably been the only way Jack could express himself. Even when the world seems to slam every existing door in his face, he can always put some pigments on a piece of fabric and call it art. Deep in his thoughts of a better life, Jack didn't notice the kid come up behind him.
"I like your painting," the blond mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
Startled, Jack whipped around. "What?" He recognized the boy from earlier. He was the one with the blank canvas.
"Oh, um. I-I saw your painting. I just, I thought it looked good. I mean it was better than good, I uh, I liked it."
"Thanks." Jack paused awkwardly. With anyone else he would complement their picture too, even though they were never as good as his. He couldn't exactly use that trick this time. "The name's Jack." Had he seen the boy before? Yes. Did he have a clue what his name was? Absolutely not. "Sorry, what's your name again?"
This was his chance to start over. The tall brunette in front of him didn't even know his name. He didn't know his broken pieces and missing parts. But for some reason he just couldn't lie to Jack. "Crutchie. We had gym together last semester." Crutchie prepared to dodge the inevitable questions.
"Crutchie?" Of course Jack was curious, but he saw the kid draw in a breath to explain. He knew it couldn't have been the first time he'd been asked. "Oh yeah, I remember you. You sat on the bench a lot…" Jack remembered that he also missed a lot of school days. I'm pretty sure I saw him on crutches at some point now that I think about it, Jack thought. So much for avoiding the topic.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Jack had tried, and Crutchie appreciated it. "I better get to class," he paused, "and thanks." With that he hurried to his next class.
Jack watched him leave. He had the gait of someone trying to hide a limp. The walk of a person who had to consciously put one foot in front of the other. Crutchie, the name repeated over and over in Jack's head.