New York was bustling. It was a little after five in the afternoon and the factories were opening their doors to signal the end of the long work day. Every newsie in the area seemed to have flocked to the doors, hoping to catch some of the workers interest with their wildly catchy headlines. Jack Kelly was no exception. Leaned up against one of the city's ornate lamp posts, he played with the bandana tied securely around his neck as he tried to figure out just what his hook should be. Things like this took consideration, timing, and brains. Jack liked to think he'd been blessed with all three. He held the paper out in front of him, scanning the headlines for a little something to go off of. Another article on the mayor's supposed tax evasion was blazing across the front page - useless. Flipping through he finally spotted a small blurb about the police commissioner and his mistress. No doubt Pulitzer's journalists had been paid off well to keep this story off the front page. Patting himself on the back, Jack was just about to start throwing his pitch when he felt a tug on his sleeve.
Letting his gaze drift down he caught sight of the small girl at his side, scanning over her own paper, her deep green eyes squinted in concentration. She let her hand fall from his sleeve when she felt his eyes boring into her. Grimacing she held the paper in her hand out to him, her eyes showing how helpless she was despite the fact that everything about her was defiant and even a bit prissy.
"What's it say, Cowboy?" The girl brushed her hair away from her eyes and folded her hands in her lap. Perhaps becoming a newsgirl hadn't been the best decision but she'd been left with little else in the form of career options. Left parentless, penniless, and starving she'd done her best to get buy, finding space in the Central Park News Girls Dormitory. And somehow she'd managed to get by with a bit of help. It was no secret that the boys looked at the girls as nothing more than a nuisance but she never gave up hope that maybe one day they'd accept her as one of their own.
"Aw Christ, Sadie. I ain't got da time for dis." The girl gave him a pleading look and folded her small hands in front of her in an act of what could almost pass for supplication. Jack let out a sigh and flicked the page out of habit as he scanned over it once more, reading the headlines out to her. "Van Wyck in Ice Trust Scandal ... Two Found Murda'd In Uptown Manhattan..." Sadie held up a hand to signal that he could stop. Jack raised a skeptical eyebrow, but said nothing as he folded his pape back up and set it down with the rest of his pile. Let her think she had something useful, it wasn't any skin off his neck if she ate or not that night. And Christ, the skirt couldn't even read – what the hell was she doing working as a News Girl anyways? Did she think this was some kind of free ride that anyone could hop onto or off of as they pleased? But he kept his mouth shut and leant down to heft his collection of papes up, ready to start hocking his headline.
"Thanks, Cowboy. I'se appreciate it." She gave him a weak smile and pushed away from where she'd been leaning next to him, her pape held high above her head and she called out her slightly twisted headline. "Mayah's scandal leads ta' murda! Murda uptown! Killa on the loose. Read all about it!" A small crowd started to form around her, all abuzz with a mixture of sordid interest and pure fear, all of them wondering just who this dangerous killer was, and Jack smirked slightly. He had to give the little tart some credit. She definitely knew how to turn a headline, catch the attention of the throngs of people that were constantly buzzing through New York. And she knew just how to play the gender card. In her tattered skirt and bonnet she most definitely differed from most of the other girls she lodged with. But Jack, and the other boys, still couldn't stand their female competition. It was a man's world and there was no room for little girls who needed tending. Hell, it wasn't his job to read her the headlines – and in doing so, really, wasn't he only hurting himself? It was a constant battle for survival and for reputation between the boys and girls of the black and white print. And today would be no exception. If he didn't outsell his pride would most certainly be threatened.
"Extrey, Extrey! Read all about it! Commissioner's Mistress tells all! Orgy at headquarters! Read all about it!" Sadie frowned as some of her customers started to drift away. She didn't need the extra cash and she was most certainly selling well enough on her own but she'd hoped to at least make double what she'd spent that day and with Kelly acting the way he was she wasn't sure she was going to pull that off. Her frown crinkled her forehead slightly, and she shook her head as she continued calling out her own headline, her voice drowning out the Cowboy's momentarily. She only had a few more to sell as it was. If she could just keep her small voice louder than his for a bit longer she'd be done, and have a hefty sum in her pocket.
"Extra, Extra! Mayah may be behind Uptown killin'! No one is safe! Arson rages in Uptown settl'ments! Read all about it!" Again the crowd began to sway her way, and a satisfied grin crossed her pale lips. Sure, she didn't need to sell here – she could always find a spot where there wasn't any competition for her to face. But half the fun was showing everyone that she was just as good, no, better than the boys. Somedays she won, others she walked away nearly empty handed. It was a gamble she had to take, but this was the best selling spot in town, and Kelly or no Kelly, she wasn't uprooting herself. This was as much her spot as his.
Letting her bonnet fall back as the crowd finally thinned out, Sadie tossed a look back to Jack, letting him know that he hadn't intimidated her in the slightest. The other girls might have been afraid of Kelly and his boys but they'd never put her off in the least bit. She was reminded on a daily basis by one or other of them that she would most certainly never be a "real newsie" but as long as she was pulling in enough to survive she really didn't care. None of the boys caught her eye anyways and she was hardly interested in settling down.
Tucking her shawl around her arms she sent a wave to Jack, who grumbled something under his breath and turned his back on her setting his hat low over his eyes, and she set off in the direction of home, her lower lip tucked between her teeth. She needed to make it back before curfew and since tomorrow was a Sunday, Mrs. Winthrop made sure it was extra early. If she didn't speed up her steps she would never make it in time and the doors would be locked, leaving her to fend for herself for the night. Looking up and across the street to check for traffic she didn't see the cane that slipped out in front of her, set to trip up her footing. Two more steps and she was stumbling over herself nearly landing on her face, a few lucky quick steps the only thing keeping her from smacking the pavement. A soft chuckle started up behind her. Whirling around she glared at the boy who was leaned up against the wall of a near by alley, nearly doubled over with laughter.
"What the hell are ya doin' outta Brooklyn, Spot?" She hissed, gathering up the few things that had spilled from her purse in her near spill. The boy merely shrugged and used the tip of his cane to knock her bonnet down into her face.
"Just stoppin' by. Gots some business to talk over with Jacky Boy." Sadie grimaced and straightened herself up. Brushing by him she kept her head held high as she continued hurrying towards the dormitory, trying to ignore that he was nipping at her heels, still laughing. If she stopped to deal with him now, she'd be late for sure, and there was no way Conlon was going to win by making her sleep on the street. "So what, yer too good ta talk to me now?" His tone was mocking, and had he spoken to her like that a few years earlier he might have actually cut her a bit. But after years of dealing with the male half of the business she'd learned to let everything roll of her back. They were looking for a reaction, and if they didn't get one it was more than likely that they'd just let her be.
"Spot, dontcha gotta go see Cowboy? I ain't got time for youse today." Her tone was sharp and her words were short. Spot shrugged and took a few steps in front of her so that he could block her path. She sighed and shoved him hard to get by, managing only a few steps before he was in front of her again. "I'se ain't playin' with you, Conlon. Move." Her voice was dangerously low but Spot had always been one to play with fire and as if to egg her on he poked her stomach slightly with the tip of his cane. She only knocked it aside and continued. She was proving harder to break today than he'd thought.
"Aw, come on Sadie. I'se just playin'. Take a minute." He went to grab her shoulder but she shrugged him away coldly, not even stopping to exchange words.
"Spot. I'm going to be late and God knows Mrs. Winthrop will want to kill if I'se ain't home on time. So, for Christ's sake, move." She could see the dormitory, and she knew that if she made a break for it she'd be able to make it home in time without chance of Spot catching up. But she didn't want to run away from him. The last thing she needed to do was show some sign of weakness.
"Ah, ah Sadie, sweetheart. Move, what?" Spot had a satisfied smirk as his cane shot out in front of her again, stopping short of her stomach. She was fuming now, and he couldn't even suppress the sadistic grin that was starting to spread across his face. Sure, Spot Conlon was a ladies man, but Sadie was no lady.
"Do youse treat ya boys like dis?" She spat out.
"No." Spot smirked slightly and pushed her bonnet back as she walked away. "But dey'se my boys. You - you ain't neva gonna be one of us, Sadie. Youse is different." He watched with a sick contentment as Sadie's face fell slightly, barely detectable but he saw it all the same. She didn't understand why he always seemed to single her out to torture but she seemed to be the focus of all his taunts whenever he was in the district. And as long as he kept it out of earshot of Racetrack, maybe the only boy who'd given Sadie a chance,he usually got away with it with a few good laughs from the other newsies. "Now, move what?"
Sadie's face fell even further. She was defeated.
"Move … please." Every ounce of strength in her body was going towards not smacking that hideous grin right off his face.
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He dropped his cane and let her sidle past, his hands slipping into his pockets as he took a few steps away. "All ya hadda say was 'please'! I tell ya, girls taday ain't got no manners."
"Yeah, fuck you, Conlon." He wasn't sure, but he was fairly certain he caught the hint of a tear in the corner of her eye, but bit his tongue about it. There was only so far you could push her before she went crying to Higgins with her tail between her legs. And the last thing Spot needed was a fight with Manhattan. He watched her turn sharply, her whole body tense, and smirked as she hurried away, head bent. She really was crying.
A part of him told him should feel badly, but all he felt was an overwhelming sense of glee. The News Girls had been nothing but a thorn in his side since Pulitzer and his goons had decided that the boys just weren't cutting it on their own. They took away from business and what was worse, they were marrying off his newsies left and right. He was losing good men to respectable jobs, and so was Manhattan. And consequently the tension between the sexes ran high. He suspected Sadie there, had her sights set on Race, and that just made his blood boil. Sure, Race wasn't his boy – but he was his friend and the last thing he wanted to see was his friend tied down to some whiney, snot-nosed little good for nothing News Girl. And so he treated Sadie with all the malice he could muster. He'd put her in her place yet again. Conlon - 1, Sadie - 0