A/N: I guess now's a good time to go about with saying that I don't own the characters of Newsies (1992) or the 2012 stage adaptation of the same name, nor do I own Bean. Bean belongs to tumblr user vitariesocks.


The two tenement newsies, Mouse and Bean, made their way to their usual selling spot, back by their tenement on Orchard Street, newspapers tucked under their arms.

It wasn't unusual for the tenement newsies to sell near their homes, and most of the time, the lodging house newsies let them have those few streets. After all, there was much more money to be made north of the distribution center, where folks had more money to spend and the ladies were more inclined to pay more than a cent for a copy of the morning edition. The tenement neighborhoods, well, you sold your papers for a cent each and maybe if you were lucky, you'd get a free morsel of food from a butcher or something, but that was rare.

This morning, however, the headline seemed promising, so much so that Mouse had made up her mind to buy a hundred copies of the World, rather than her usual forty.

"Spanish blamed for the death of two-hundred and sixty-six deaths in the sinking of the USS Maine," Mouse read as she and Bean walked to their selling spot at the corner of Delancy and Orchard Street. "I'd say that's a good headline, don't you think?"

Bean shrugged. "Better than yesterday's, isn't it?"

"A lot of things're better than fancy cars, that's for sure."

Both newsies knew that headlines having to do with death, war, and politics always sold better than automobiles and things that only the wealthy could really care about. Even war was hard for folks such as those two to care about, but who were they to judge, when it sold papers all the same?

It was as Mouse's mother always said, that work was work, and it didn't matter what sort of work it was, as long as it put food on the table. Headlines were headlines, and if they sold papers, well, Mouse could hardly complain, could she?

"Is that why you got a hundred copies, instead of forty?" Bean asked as they neared their usual corner. "Are you sure you can sell all of 'em?"

Mouse nodded. "I'd better be able to," the girl said, adjusting her hold on the papers. "Or else that's what, fifty cents I won't get back?"

"Your mother won't be happy if you put that to waste."

"Don't tell me something I already know, yeah? I'll sell all hundred papers, just watch."