Hello everyone! This is my first story, and I am not sure how good I am at this... but you gotta start somewhere, right? So, anyway this is based off of a movie called The Truman show. Also, gimme me a break when it comes to the accents. I am not to good with those... :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, nor the story line of The Truman Show. So far, Genny is the only character I own. There will be other characters in later chapters.

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Summary:

Everyday they got up, got dressed, got their papes, came home and hung out, then went to bed. Everyday it was the same thing. What if everything they knew was a lie? What if everyone they knew were actors and were paid to pretend to be their friends? What if one girl gets tired of pretending?

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Chapter one:

"Oye, Mush! Ya hear me?" Racetrack Higgins, famed for his gambling skills, yelled in a thick Italian accent. The person he was yelling at jerked out of his daydream.

"Hmm, what didja say?" Mush Meyers asked, looking at his friend, who now sat next to him on the curb. Racetrack, also known as Race, unfolded one of the many papers that sat next to him and began to read.

"I said, how are da headlines?" Race asked, highly annoyed. On top of not sleeping well and the headlines being lousy, now his selling partner was completely out of it. "What's your deal anyways? Ya were staring at somethin'..." Race smirked and looked up from his paper. "Or someone?" Race licked his lips and raised an eyebrow.

"Eh, yeah." Mush replied, rubbing the back of his neck. Even after having many girlfriends and talking to the other guys about all these girls, Mush still got nervous and embarrassed when the guys prodded him on the subject.

"Shoulda know..." Race rolled his eyes and shook his head, looking back down at the paper in his hands. His friend, Mush, had always been known to fall for any girl in sight. That is how he got his nickname. He would turn to mush when a pretty girl talked to him. "So, was she a pretty goil?" Race inquired, not really caring.

"Well, yeah, she was very pretty. She had brown hair, and it seemed to glow in da sunlight. I didn't really get a good look at her eyes, but I bet they are beautiful," Mush continued to talk about his dream girl, blissfully unaware that his friend truly didn't care. "She was wearing a long skirt and a shirt that looked amazing on her. And-" He stopped short as his friend stood up, abruptly.

"Mush, I really don't care. No offense, but ya are always droolin' over some goil. How is this one any different?" Race, who now stood, folded his paper. He bent down and started to collect his other fifty-nine papers.

"But she is different. Just somethin' about her," He trailed off and stood up as well, now facing his friend. "I don't know how ta explain it. I'm sure, though, that if it's meant ta be, that I will see her again," Mush was pretty much talking to himself now, as Race gathered his papers.

"Whatever, man. But we gotta get sellin' now, or else we ain't gonna be able to eat tanight!" Race finished straightening his papers and turned to Mush. He smacked him playfully and smirked. "Getcha head outa the clouds and getcha papes!"

Mush rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly at his selling partner. Race was a great friend, but this was only to be expected from a smart mouth like Racetrack. Mush bent down to get his papers, and started to gather them. It took him a little longer than necessary, as his thoughts were else where. He glanced up, only to realize that Racetrack had already gone, and he now was on his own.

Sighing, he made his way toward his selling spot.

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A lone figure sat in a black, office chair. The person's face was hard as they watched several monitors in front of them. Jerald Harris watched as his daughter made a lasting impression on one of the boys. The boy was practically drooling as she walked by. A small smile played at his lips as the boy with the smart mouth joked with his friend. Now this is good TV! Jerald thought as the boy, they called Mush, fumbled with his papers.

These boys thought they were something with their papers and their money and their 'goils'. Everything they know is a lie, and they didn't have a clue. The millions of Americans that watched them every night at 9:30 did, though. Their lives were being watched, and they didn't have a clue.

He full out laughed as his daughter, Genevieve Harris, flirted shamelessly with this so called 'newsboy'. She bought a newspaper and giggled girlishly at some witty line the boy had said. His daughter made this part what it was. He had just asked her, well more told her, to come and work for him, and she just took the part and ran with it. He was so proud of her. Jerald beamed as she told Mush her name and then flipped her hair flirtatiously and sauntered off.

Thirty minutes later, Genevieve walked into Jerald's office. She now had on street clothes and her long, brown hair was pulled back into a pony tail. She held a coke in her right hand and a banana in her left. Her father stood up and clapped as she walked in. "Bravo! Bravo! That was amazing Genny!" He enveloped her in a tight hug.

"Thanks dad, but your gonna kill me if you squeeze any harder..." She chuckled as her dad's grip loosened lightly, but didn't completely let go. She hugged him back and put on a fake smile. Even though she loved to act and be apart of her father's business, she couldn't help but feel a little bit of guilt as she talked to Mush. The way his beautiful, brown eyes pierced her soul. And the way his smile made her smile. The innocence of him, and how he truly thought she liked him, made her sick to her stomach. She was tired of pretending, but would never say a thing. It was her father after all and she loved him, even if she thought that what he was doing was cruel and unfair to the boys.

"This is going to be great stuff tonight, Gen!" Her father exclaimed. "Our viewers have been waiting for a little romance. Jack and Sarah are a thing of the past! It's now Mush and Genny!" He laughed and offered her a seat next to him. "This is wonderful, Genny..." Her father smiled widely at her.

Genevieve wondered if her father ever felt any guilt for what he was doing. Ever since her mother had died, it had always been her and her father and eighteen young boys who had no idea that their lives were fake. Her father and his crew had raised them ever since they were babies in this fake world. New York City in 1900. Genny honestly wondered if anyone ever felt guilt. This show, The Newsie show, had been a project for over nineteen years now. It was one of the top shows in America and had thousands of people working on it. The boys were brought up in this make shift world, and people pretended to be part of the world. Everything was fake. The Jacob's family, all fake. The newspapers they sold, all fake. The people they sold them to, all fake. Everything was fake, and Genny was getting tired of being fake.

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So, what do you think? Let me know. Also, I know the accents stunk, but oh well ;)

Love,

Dan4HIM