Hi there everyone! Long time reader here, but this is my first story - so please don't be too tough on me :) Reviews are much appreciated! And as always, I don't own Newsies, any of the characters, etc. Just "Red".

So here. we. go.!

Chapter 1

I opened my eyes and immediately regretted it. The bright light of day blinded me, and I squinted them back shut. I gave a full body stretch, feeling as though I was waking up after a long nap, but only to find my arms and legs running into sharp corners at every inch. Clearly, this was not my pillow-topped bed.

Gingerly lifting one lid, I took in everything. I appeared to be lying on a pile of wooden crates. Brick walls in front of and behind me; was I in an alley? The road was hard packed dirt. What the hell was all this?

As I struggled to stand up, I tried to place myself. Clearly I'd had a little too much fun the night before and somehow drank myself into this pile of garbage. But I couldn't remember having ever gone out. I'm way too old for this…

Silently cursing my love of Jameson, I was barely on my feet when I spotted a familiar bag lying next to where I had been: my hiking backpack. Hmm. Pulling it onto my shoulders, I started walking and tried again to test my memory. I didn't get very far when I heard a shout from behind me.

"What the hell are you?!" I turned to see two rather large, strangely-dressed men begin to chase me. Before my brain could even register what was going on, I took off running in the opposite direction at full speed.

After about 10 minutes, they seemed to have given up. I stopped running and surveyed my outfit. I can see how a black Northface hooded jacket and baby blue canvas backpack might seem out of place compared to the tweed pants and suspenders of my chasers. My jeans probably stood out too, although not as much. At least my shin-high brown leather boots – a cool-weather fashion staple – fit in.

I ducked in another alley to catch my breath. Nothing here looked familiar. I tried to remember where I was –or how I got here – and came up with a blank. Looking at my bag again, a flash of memory hit me. I'd been packing it to visit my best friends. My brain stalled, then gave me another snippet – I was supposed to meet them in New York. Which this was clearly not.

Seeking further clues, I took a quick look in my bag. Clothes, laptop, phone -and a ton of cash. Again, what the hell… is this some kind of trick?

Still not really sure what exactly was going on, I decided that a wardrobe change was necessary. Even if this was some elaborate film set, prank, or misunderstanding, I'd rather fit in with the scenery than feel like I was running for my life again.

Fortunately, I was along a street lined with shops, and I darted in the first one that looked like it sold clothes. Positive that the two ladies inside it found me quite alarming, I quickly grabbed a pair of brown tweed pants, a matching vest, and a white button down shirt. I threw them on the counter in the center of the store, and spied some accessories just behind it. I threw a brown newsboy hat onto my pile of clothes and was about to pay for my new outfit when I realized that my backpack would still stick out like a sore thumb. I asked one of the ladies at the counter if they sold any sort of luggage or bags.

"We have some fine leather carry-alls that may meet your needs," she answered, with a combination of indignation and fear mixed on her face.

"Where." My reply was curt, as I realized how suspicious I must seem and was suddenly more anxious than ever to be out of the store and blending in.

She pointed across the shop. I ran over and quickly surveyed the wall. I choose a simple brown bag that could be worn just like my backpack, and was large enough to make a full content switch from one to the other.

I hauled it back to the counter without making eye contact, and grabbed for my wallet. At least I had all that cash.

"That will be twenty-six dollars and fifty cents," said the lady, with what I swear was a note of challenge in her voice, as if she assumed this weird girl in front of her would not have the funds to pay. I smiled to myself, both at how wrong she was and at how I'd instinctively been grabbing at six of the twenties in my wallet, not even thinking that this old-timey neighborhood would be selling things this cheap. Checking to see if I had any change, and finding none, I handed her two of my twenties.

She huffed, and began to fuss about the register. Her assistant, moving for the first time, began to wrap the clothes. I held out my left hand to stop her, as I took my change in my right. "Actually, I was wondering if I couldn't borrow your dressing room?" Making eye contact for the first time since I ran into the store, I gave them both what I hoped was a charming and innocent smile. The assistant just stared at me, clearly confused, and the other one sighed. "Make it quick. Then please leave."

Without waiting for either of them to change their minds, I ran to the back of the store and into the old-school equivalent of a changing room. I peeled off my light jacket and stripped down to my underwear. I slid the pants on first, feeling how scratchy they were against my sensitive skin. How did people wear these?

I threw the button down on over my bra, realizing that my green Victoria's Secret garment showed right through. Thank God I love vests and couldn't help having bought one. I quickly tucked the white shirt into my pants and pulled on the vest. I threw the hat on my head, and set to quick work of shifting my backpack contents from my old baby blue to my new brown leather "carry-all".

The transformation now complete, I started to dart out the fitting room when I saw my reflection in a large, self-standing mirror. My long, curly red hair was sticking out hugely from under my new hat. I set my bag down for a moment and efficiently tucked my hair under the cap. Much better. I grabbed my bag and darted out the door. Not knowing what to do with my 2012 garb, I'd not so subtly left it behind. Let the cranky clerk deal with it.

Although I still wouldn't fit in with all the ladies walking around in their ankle length dresses, I felt much less out of my place in my new clothes. Maybe most women weren't dressed like me, but at least some people were. Satisfied I was no longer in any immediate danger, I set upon deciding where and when exactly I was supposed to be.

I began to take in my surroundings. The street I was on was dirt. The buildings were brick. My first theory that I'd somehow landed in a film studio was quickly falling apart. How many film sets have fully functioning clothing stores? And I'd yet to see a camera or any other modern device. People were bustling about, and now that they were no longer stopping to stare at me, they seemed to be going about realistically with what seemed to be life in the early 1900s.

I'd decided that I would find a corner store and buy a newspaper. It seemed like the most logical way to find my date and location, without asking a stranger and possibly renewing a chase scene. Before I could get very far, and as if he were reading my mind, a boy in his late teens or early 20s approached me. "Care to buy a pape?"