Disclaimer I do not own Newsies or any of their characters. I do own Kit Gianno and her story and hence she is me. The others that you do not recognize are either made up by me or owned by someone else.

Chapter 1

Kit sat at her easel, her brush roughly swiping against the canvas and a smile spread about her face. The morning sun peaked through slightly opened windows with light that assured a happy day. Kit was always easily pleased. Despite here tenement building which was filled with the noises of screaming, crying babies she was always happy. Well, at least until the day disaster struck.

Summertime in New York City was always the best time of year. There wasn't any snow or rain but just sunny days that could be easily wasted. But for most those summer days couldn't be wasted or they would go hungry. Kit didn't work in a factory or sweatshop but she painted. Her beautiful paintings were loved by the society of New York City and she could easily get by, by selling them. Kit was a care free Bohemian Artist until the day of the fire, when she lost everything, including her care free spirit.

You now find Kit, alone and sulking in the remains of what used to be her world. A world where no one could find her and it was just her and her art. Art was the best thing in life to her. All of her troubles would leave at the stroke of the brush and the sight of the bright paint.

3 Months Earlier

Kit sat smiling as she admired her newly finished work. It was morning and the warm sun cast a bright glow to the room showing all of Kit's art. Despite the crying of the Wilson baby next store everything was quiet and she could easily hear the birds chirping outside.

It was a time when no body could hold Kit back. She was making her way to Paris by selling her paintings. She almost had enough money and in two months would leave. New York was nothing to her. Most people didn't respect her 'modern art' so Paris was the only place she could paint without any comment of any sort, good or bad.

Kit quickly got up from her seat and tossed her ragged nightgown on the floor as she grabbed a thing muslin dress and threw it over her head. The gown was white and was worn by women in Morocco. Kit always had a fancy for "exotic" things.

The whole day was ahead of her. The world was her's and lying ahead of her was a golden path to Paris. In Kit's head she imagined what the city would be like. The images in her head were soothing and comforting to know that she'd be there in a matter of weeks.

Kit left her tenement with a slam of her door and a smile spread about her face. If you knew Kit she'd always be smiling. Kit played with a strand of her wavy dark brown hair. She wasn't Indian or Moroccan or even English but a full blood Italian. She learned of the exotic lands of India and Morocco through books and paintings. She was instantly inspired by the images they possessed and became a true Bohemian.

Kit spent her day at Central Park where the newsies were seen selling their papers loudly and children running about with their nannies behind them. Kit wasn't aware of the fire carriage that flew by her as quickly as possible. She never paid any attention to those sorts of things. They only held death and suffering in their images. But what she didn't know was that she should have been aware of the fire carriage. It would change her life in a matter of seconds.

A Cliff hanger sounds nice to leave off at but don't worry next chapter will be along soon! Lol. Give me some nice reviews and I'll be nicer and I won't stop in the middle of the story!