**Disclaimer: Disney owns Newsies, I don't (obviously). We own Angela (as much as we hate her) so if you want to borrow her, let us know. This is a mockery of the clichéd stories my mate Heather and I kept reading. This is an accidental collaboration between Heather and Alix. It is for your reading pleasure. Any flames will NOT be taken seriously. **

Angela knew that she loved Spot the moment she laid eyes on him. Who could resist those clear blue eyes, that wiry but strong figure, those pink suspenders and that sexy slingshot? Part of the reason that she loved Spot was that she could see the future and knew that he was just like Marilyn Manson (A/N can you tell who Heath likes?), or maybe a bit like John Heaton. John is, after all, the future of BMXing and so darn cute (A/N can you tell who I like?). Angela knew she wanted him, and she always got what she wanted. Ever since she was a little girl. That was because her parents owned half of NYC. But one day she ran away, because she was bored with her life. She wore her brother's old clothes and hat -that just happened to be low quality newsie garb- because that way, no one would be able to figure out that she was a girl. But I am getting ahead of myself here, let's start at the beginning.

Angela had discovered the newsies one day when she and her maid had been walking around Brooklyn. Usually she wasn't allowed out of her neighbourhood because of the scum that inhabited NYC but today for no particular reason, she was. And then, she saw him. He was standing at the corner eating an apple and waiting for people to come by to buy his papers. They came to him, because he was so wonderful at selling papers. She asked her maid, Marie, who that boy was. She replied he was a newsie, a boy who sold papers, and that Angela shouldn't be consorting with him.

"What are papers?" Angel asked in a chimbo-like fashion. (A/N chimbos are cheerleader bimbos. Some cheerleaders are cool. Some are not. No offence to the cool ones.)

"Newspapers." the maid replied. "You know."

Angela had a blank look on her face. Then it hit her like lightning. (A/N too bad she wasn't actually hit by lightning.) "You mean those pieces of paper that have print on them that Daddy reads?" The maid nodded and gave Angela money to buy a paper for being so smart. Angela sauntered up to the newsie on the corner.

"Buy an apple, miss?" he asked, offering the apple he was eating. The maid looked at the apple in disgust. But Angela bought it along with one of his papers so she had something to remember him by.

"So..." She cooed, whilst batting her eyelashes. "What's your name?"

"Spot Conlon, atchyer service," he said, kissing her hand.

"Did it hurt?" He questioned

"Did what hurt?" She replied coyly.

"I thought you were struck by lightning." (A/N: *smacks spot* that was an author's note dumbass)

"You are just TOO funny!" Angela exclaimed. Spot looked bewildered. He was starting to get a bit creeped out by this Angela girl.

"My name is Angela but my friends call me Angel, because, I look like one!" Angela may have looked like an angel but in reality she was a crazed, deranged stalker. And she had a new target. Spot.

Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to chapt 2 we go...