Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own Newsies.
Prologue
New York City's children had seen just about everything by the year nineteen hundred, and the newsboys were no exception. Mostly consisting of orphans, the newsies had learned to survive on each other. They weren't recognized by some as highly respected, but they didn't need the attention of high society; they had their own social order. Naturally, this society had its triumphs and its struggles, its heroes and its villains. There had been countless fights, hundreds of conflicts, and dozens of battles. But a war between New York's boroughs was rare and was guaranteed to be both tragic and glorious.
The oldest rivalry, some say, was between Brooklyn and Queens. For years the two territories held an ardent hate for the other. As the leaders rose and fell, the new rulers made no attempt to make a change. They stuck to their traditional ways and vowed to uphold the custom of loathing the enemy. Many times the boroughs' newsies crossed paths and clashed, but eventually walked away with a slap on the wrist.
However, a man took over Brooklyn and a man took over Queens. As ritual called for it, they naturally despised one another. Violence and hostility had reached its highest point while these two kings were in rule; they fighting had gotten worse, dozens of boys died, and things had just gotten too dirty to handle. Both men knew they had to put an end to it once and for all. At the end of eighteen ninety-nine, a showdown took place to prove who was the better territory. They met, they fought, and there was only one victor.
It was the first time Brooklyn had been defeated. Spot Conlon, the proud leader, had fallen from grace. He had failed and everybody saw. Although he himself had survived, the ultimate defeat was on his shoulders. Tyce Nichols, the fearless ruler of Queens, conquered Brooklyn. Many were dead and injured on both sides, but it was clear who the winner had been.
Spot Conlon had never lost a fight in his entire life until that day. He lost more than a mere tussle; he lost lifelong friends, his reputation, and his dignity. But loyal were his boys and they stuck with him, even though he had lost the spark that made Spot so famous. His honor slumped, his respect plummeted, and, worst of all, a wall had built itself around his heart. He was wrapped up in guilt, and when a man is that at fault with himself, he turns cold and bitter. No longer did he believe in that mythical thing called "love". He was a prisoner of lust; chasing skirts and sleeping with meaningless girls. But just as it looked like it had gone out, something started to happen that would make that famous Conlon spark light up again.