Note: Hello folks! I felt the need to write another Newsies story after getting the movie yesterday for Christmas! Any suggestions, comments, or praise is welcome! Feel free to read my other story as well, called "Miracle and the Brooklyn Bridge".
Disclaimer: If I owned Newsies, Kid Blink wouldn't want to spend a night with the mayor's daughter. Cuz he'd be mine. Mush too. :P
AND I SUCK AT NEWSIE SLANG. IT IS NOT USED IN THIS STORY.
I only own the characters you don't recognize.
Chapter One:
I need a match.
No, I don't smoke. Smoking is bad for your health. I've seen other kids smoke, mostly boys my age, and even some girls. It's nasty.
But what I do is probably just as bad as smoking.
"Excuse me sir? Do you happen to have a spare match? It's cold out here." I asked a man walking down the street. He smiled at me.
"Of course, sweetie. Keep yourself warm." He said, and handed me a couple of matches. I nodded my thanks, and ran down the rest of the street. I sat on the docks of the river. I was on the Manhattan side, and I saw Brooklyn laid out in front of me. I took a small firecracker out of my pocket. This was the best of all of the ones I had. I lit a match, and stared at the fire. It glowed, and grew long. It was a windless day, so it didn't blow out. I brought the fire to the wick of the firecracker, and backed up quickly. It crackled, sparked, and finally exploded into a large orange burst of light. I giggled to myself.
"Fire is good…" I muttered. It was about 8:00 in the morning. The newsboys would soon be up and selling papers. I looked into the old messenger bag at my side. I sold flowers for a living in the spring and summer, and in the winter I sold homemade candles. Life was harsh, especially when people didn't want my ' half dead flowers' or my 'child-made candles'. I had nearly died before, when I was on the brink of starvation.
I looked at the streets. A group of teenage boys started swarming the street, shouting at the top of their lungs. I stood up, and brushed the snow off of my skirt. I began walking back down the street from which I had come, to compete with the shouting boys.
I weaved my way in and out of the now crowded streets. Some of the boys stopped shouting and stared at me, tipping their hats as they did so. Some just kept shouting, and ended up getting whacked on the arm by their more respectable friends. I giggled, and waved at some of them.
I made my way to my usual selling spot; a large crate on the street's corner. I sat on it, and took out my merchandise. Today I was selling candles, considering that it was the beginning of December. Some of them were decorated in red and green, while others were all sorts of colors not related to the holiday season. They were each five cents apiece, more money than people paid for their papers. I continued setting up my candles when someone laid a nickel down next to me.
I looked up and saw a newsie standing there. He smiled at me sweetly, and held out his hand.
"I've seen you 'round here before. What's your name?" he asked. I shook his hand.
"My name's Lily. What's yours?" I asked him. He chuckled.
"You're gonna laugh, but my name's Mush." He told me. I stifled a laugh, only causing him to laugh more. "See? What'd I tell you?"
"It's a good name. But, why?" I asked him.
"Because my friends think I'm a big ol' mushball." He laughed. I smiled, and looked at my candles.
"So, you wanted a candle?" I said. He nodded, and pointed to one that was multiple shades of red. I had used a match to blend the different shades of wax together. I smiled.
"Is it for you?" I questioned him.
"Kind of. It's for our lodging house." He replied. I smiled, and handed him another candle. He looked at it oddly, and asked, "What's this for?"
"It's a gift for you guys. I figured since there's a lot of you, you could use another one." I answered simply. He smiled, and turned around.
"Hey Blink! I got two candles! Kloppman will be so happy!" he shouted as he ran to one of his friends. I giggled, at how child like Mush was. I saw him off in the distance talking to another boy. The boy had dirty-blonde hair, and was maybe five or six inches taller than Mush. Mush pointed to me, and the boy turned around. He had a patch over his left eye. He seemed to be laughing at something Mush said, but once we made eye contact, both of our smiles faded. Mush seemed to notice, and looked in curiosity at his friend. I grabbed my candles, threw them into my bag, and ran for it. There was no way I was facing him again.
I sprinted down the streets, not caring where I was going. I didn't want them to follow me. I turned to see both boys running in my direction, the boy with the eye patch in front of Mush. I ran faster, only to trip and fall over a pile of newspapers on the ground. I flipped over them, and landed in the snow on my back. I grimaced. That was going to leave a mark.