Author's Note: Well, I finally did it! I finally got a chapter of one of my stories up! I hope you all enjoy. This first chapter is setting things up, so it's not going to be amazingly exciting, but stick with it, it gets better! Also, leave feedback! Everybody wants feedback, it's nice!
Disclaimer: No, I do not own any of the Newsies, Sasha a.k.a. Sinker, her father, Tyler, Bradshaw, and Ms. Lardess are mine however...


Pulitzer paced in his office, glaring down at the street and at the sight of a few newsboys running around, hawking headlines loudly. The newsies were becoming rowdy and reckless, unpredictable; he needed someone to watch them closer, someone to report back to him what was going on. He had proposed this idea to his staff a few days ago, and they had come up with the plan to send in a kid of their own as a newsboy. It was found that one of Pulitzer's doormen had a kid about seventeen who he was always complaining was dirty and seemingly getting into trouble.

Today Pulitzer would meet the boy and brief him on what he was to do—and what would happen if the plans weren't followed without good explanation. There was a knock on the thick wooden door and Pulitzer barked, "Come in!"

His right hand man with the silly facial hair came in, twitching nervously. "Well, sir," he squeaked out, his eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at Pulitzer. "The boy we thought we would send in happens to be…"

There was a scuffle outside the door and a relatively high pitched voice was heard saying, "Waddaya mean?!"

A gruff reprimand sent the early talker into silence and the two entered the elaborate office. Pulitzer's eyes bugged, "A girl?" He studied the young woman in front of him.

There was a scowl on her thin lips, her green-brown eyes were downcast and burning holes into his Indian imported rug, her straight chocolate-brown hair hung loose and limp about her heart-shaped face, bangs falling lightly into her almond shaped eyes. She was slender, bordering on skinny, almost no curves, and she was already wearing the outfit that Pulitzer's staff had found for their recruit.

The shorts were a dull grey and ended just below her knees. Her calves were toned and her muscles strained slightly as she shifted from one boot laden foot to the other. The dark green shirt she was wearing had the sleeves pushed up to her elbows and a brown vest finished the outfit. In her fisted hand she held a hat that matched the color of the vest.

"Who is this?" Pulitzer demanded.

"This is my daughter, Sasha," the man who had handed out the scolding in the corridor replied, "I'm Josh Hershun, one of your doormen."

The slight assistant with the anxious look upon his face began to speak, "It so happens that Mr. Tyler, the man that told us of Hershun's son, only assumed he had a son. Apparently the girl is quite boyish…" Sasha jerked toward the quivering man in a threatening manner, which resulted in him gasping and jumping back a little.

Mr. Hershun grabbed Sasha's shoulder painfully tight and shook her hard. She swallowed and went back to staring at the floor. Pulitzer mulled over this bit of information before looking at the three in front of him, then glancing quickly out the window at the busy street below. "We're still sending her in," he informed them. His lust for more money was too powerful to be foiled by such an insignificant setback.

Sasha's head snapped up, her mouth gaping. It wasn't that she minded getting out of her abusive home, it was that Pulitzer was selfish enough to think that he could control her. She hadn't even been asked if she was willing to join in their sick little spy game. Being a newsie was tough, especially for a female. In fact, there weren't any girl newsies in Manhattan. She had seen a sparse few in Queens and Brooklyn, but there were none to be found in Manhattan.

"This afternoon," Pulitzer decided with himself. "I'll have Tyler and Bradshaw get you into the swing of things." He smiled ruthlessly. "Now, all you have to do is keep your eyes and ears open and report back to me."

"And if I don't?" Sasha asked, attempting to be tough.

Her father rounded on her, "I'll tan your hide so that it doesn't heal this time." His eyes seemed red. "I'm getting a pretty little bonus out of this and you will not ruin it for me," he hissed.

Pulitzer smiled through his beard. "We also know how to turn every newsie in New York against you. Loyalty is expected down there on the streets, and if you step out of line, we'll tell them where your loyalties really lie." His eyes were thin slits. "Now get out of my office."

Her father grabbed her roughly by the elbow and dragged her from the room. "Tyler and Bradshaw will meet you at the harbor at one," Pulitzer yelled after them before the door closed with an audible thud.

Mr. Hershun slapped his daughter across the face as soon as the doors had shut. "How dare you talk back to Mr. Pulitzer you filthy whore," he growled. "You will do every little thing we ask of you without question, and if something goes wrong, its your head on the chopping block."

Sasha's face was burning from her father's impact. He knocked on a door down the hall. It was opened by a rather plump woman. "Oh, is this the one we're sending then?" she asked, looking down her nose at the sight of what she considered filth standing outside her office door.

Hershun nodded, having done his job of providing a 'newsboy'. "You'll stay with Ms. Lardess until it's time for you to meet Tyler and Bradshaw at the docks," her father grunted, then turned and left.

Sasha looked at the woman in front of her, "I'm sorry, was that LardASS?"

Ms. Lardess's eyes widened in rage. "Get in here and sit down," she commanded. "And don't touch anything!" Ms. Lardess sniffed. "It's bad enough that you act like a boy."

Sasha sneered. "Whatever," she mumbled, settling into a cushioned chair to wait until she was to voyage down to the harbor.


"You're going to do what with me?" Sasha yelled in disbelief, staring over the side of the boat that Tyler and Bradshaw had carried her on, looking at the cold waves that splashed up at them.

"We're to throw you'se off the side," Bradshaw repeated.

Sasha gulped, terrified. "But I can't swim," she protested.

"Then you'se best make a fuss as we trow ya," Tyler grinned maliciously. "Cause then maybe dat newsie'll help ya out." He pointed to a boy selling papers on the dock. His dark curly hair concealed underneath his tan hat. The wind blew, chilly, and he rubbed his bare legs together as he continued to sell his papers.

"What if he doesn't?" Sasha asked worriedly.

Bradshaw chuckled, "Then you'd best learn fast."

The two burly men grabbed her wrists as she struggled against them, "Let me go!" she screamed, her voice cracking in panic.

"She's a feisty one," Tyler commented, grunting with the effort to control her. They heaved the squirming girl over the boat's railing.

"NO!" she screeched as she was dangled precariously over the raging waves.

"Have fun," Bradshaw said, then, nodding to Tyler, they released their captive from their grip.

Sasha plummeted towards the water, shrieking all the way until she hit the waves with a slap. She was instantly engulfed.

Drowning. To feel the freezing grasp of death in the water, needing air that's impossible to find and finding only more and more water. The deeper Sasha plunged, the more that pressure pushed against her already compact ribcage. She frantically clawed for the surface, for a savior. Breaching the water she sputtered and choked until she was sucked back down.

This time though, she felt a hand encircle her wrist, dragging her out of the hell on earth. She blinked the water out of her eyes as she tried to focus on whoever had rescued her from the depths. Sure enough, it was the curly-haired newsie from the dock. "Hold onto me," he yelled over the wind and waves. Sasha nodded, clinging to his back.

He headed toward the dock with strong strokes, then miraculously hoisted her up onto the wood, climbing up after her. Sasha was still choking up her lungs when the boy breathlessly introduced himself, "I'm Mush Meyers." He spat in his hand.

She raised an eyebrow, then repeated his gesture. Taking his hand she replied, "Sasha…Cohen." At least she thought that was the name she had been instructed to use.

"Nice ta meetchya," he said, tipping his soaking wet hat and smiling genuinely. "So, Sinker," he said with a wink, "who were those two goons that fed ya to da sharks?"

The newly christened Sinker shrugged, "Enemies of mine."

Mush took the hint and changed the subject, "So, where ya headed?"

Sinker thought for a second. "I don' know," she answered. "I'm looking for a job…as a Newsie."

Mush looked her over skeptically, then offered, "Well, I can help you with that."

"Thanks," Sinker grinned.

He nodded. "Jus let me finish selling these papes and we'll go find Jack," he told her.

Sinker shrugged, as if to say okay, then sat down to recover and study Mush. He was taller then her and obviously strong. His muscles showed through his tight shirt. Pulitzer's voice echoed though her head. We'll turn the newsies against you. She shivered at the memory from that morning. She'd be dead before she could read the headline if the newsies decided to off her.

She felt trapped.

"Sinker? Hello?"

Sinker looked up, startled. Mush had finished selling his last few papers and was now standing above her, a smile spreading across his handsome face.

"Sorry," she mumbled, scrambling to stand up.

"It's okay," Mush assured, lazily slinging his arm across her shoulders in a friendly way. "Now, let's go find Jack, he tends to sell around the boxers, but since he probably sold faster than me today, what with having to save you—" he grinned down at her as she blushed in embarrassment—"he's probably at the square outside the distribution office."

As they made their way through Manhattan, Sinker created a mental map in her mind. She'd have to be alone eventually, and she sure as shit didn't want to get lost.

"There he is!" Mush suddenly exclaimed as they neared the square. He took off happily toward the crowd of equally good looking boys hanging around a statue of a man sitting in an elegant chair.

She took in the group, sizing them up carefully. There was the one with the eye patch that she had seen a couple times before, as always, he seemed to be in a good mood, his huge smile plastered on his cute face and dirty blonde hair falling into his eyes…or rather eye.

The one with the crutch typically sold a block down from her house. He too, always seemed cheery and kind.

There was a dark-haired boy dealing cards with a cigar sticking out of his mouth, which was curved into a wry smile. The boys he was dealing to seemed wary, yet thrilled. One looked dull and a little angered, but he nodded to the dealer all the same. Another kept brushing his thumb across the bottom of his lips, as if to stick it into his mouth, but then deciding against it.

There were three younger boys, each short and fighting each other with sticks playfully.

Lastly, she looked at the pair that Mush was now talking to. One of the boys had curly honey-brown hair and bright blue eyes that were amplified by his blue shirt. The other, taller boy, Jack she guessed, looked like the leader of the bunch. He was nodding his head and talking to Mush, who turned and yelled, "C'mere Sink!"

Sinker approached the group slowly, a small smile appearing across her face. "Hiya," she said quietly, no longer the tough girl she had pretended to be in Pulitzer's office.

"Sinker," Mush began, "This is Jack and Davey, over there is Blink and Crutchy." Pointing to the gamblers he said, "That's Racetrack—" the boy with the cigar nodded, grinning—"Skittery and Snitch."

One of the young boys came up to her. "I'm Les," he smiled gaily.

"I'm Sinker," Sinker said as the little one hugged her impulsively around the middle. Sinker glanced around at the rest of the boys, who stared, flabbergasted, at Les's odd behavior, before she gingerly wrapped her still damp arms around the younger boy.

Once he had released her, Les pointed to the other boys, "This is Boots and Snipeshooter."

Sinker raised her hand in a small wave.

Mush came over and stood next to her, "Sinker's lookin' for a job as a newsie, think we can help her out?"

Jack smiled and spit in his hand, extending it toward her he said, "O' course we can"

Sinker repeated the action, grasping his hand firmly. This had gone better than she had thought it would.

"You got a place to stay?" Jack asked, and when Sinker shook her head Jack looked around the bunch of boys. "Blink!" he called to the eye-patched boy.

"Yes sir," Blink said mockingly with a huge grin, standing straight.

Jack smiled warmly back, "We don't have extra bunks, so Sinker here is gonna have to share with someone." It was obvious where this was going.

Blink's grin stayed the same, much to Sinker's surprise. She thought he'd be upset over the prospect of having to share his bunk. "I'd be honored," he said dramatically, then he bowed to Sinker, who couldn't help but laugh. "M'lady?" He extended his arm for her.

Mush spoke, "When you're done showing her around the lodging house, we're all meeting for dinner at Tibby's."

"Alright!" Blink smiled, then began leading Sinker in the opposite direction. "You ever sold papes before?" Blink began to converse.

Sinker shook her head, "Nope."

"Well, no worries," Blink assured her. "Jack will probably show you the ropes tomorrow, or send you off with one of us."

"That's good to know," Sinker said.

"Hey, us kids gotta stick together, right?" he reassured her with another one of his winning smiles.

Sinker nodded as they continued in amiable silence. She stared at the ground. How could she possibly report back to Pulitzer after what these boys were doing for her? She felt more accepted by them than by her own family. As she was led into the lodging house and shown her and Blink's bunk, an overwhelming sense of dread began to come over her.

She was definitely trapped.


Author's Note: Well there you have it! Now this is the part where I plead and beg and get down on my knees, asking for reviews. Seriously, anything you want to say will be appreciated. Constructive criticism, praise, whatever! Just let me know what you think and if you have any ideas that you think would be interesting to incorporate into this story! Thanks!
-Corky :D