Chapter 11
Playing the Part
A/N Hey guys! So I know it's been weeks since I uploaded, and I am so sorry! But this time I actually have a valid excuse. My computer decided to have a mental breakdown while I was writing this chapter and so it crashed and I lost about half of it. So then I had to re-write probably about half the chapter. And it didn't help that I had faced some writers block as well. But I think the story is shaping up well, and from the awesome reviews I've received, you guys think so too! So thank you so much for those, and a special thanks to 1234fivemo. This chapter goes out to you hun! So I hope you guys forgive me, and enjoy this chapter!
I woke up on a soft surface as the earliest morning light shone into the bedroom. Groggily I opened my eyes, blinking away the sleep from them. I looked around for a moment before remembering the previous night's happenings. It all seemed like it happened minutes ago, even though we did not get a lot of sleep. A couple hours only I reckoned. But despite my disbelief, I sat up and reluctantly I turned my head and sure enough, Spot Conlon Bronx's biggest enemy-was lying next to me.
In bed.
In his room.
I was in trouble.
But then I remembered that nothing bad had happened. Well, bad things happened, but nothing horrible, i.e. Spot didn't try to take advantage of me, a fact that I was positive would happen my first night in Brooklyn. But nothing, sure tension was thick, but he never threatened me with that or tried anything. This confused me. Spot was famous for his reputation with women, I thought for sure he would try something, if not for his own pleasure, then for getting at my brother. What's worse than saying to the enemy "I nailed your sister?" but nothing. Maybe this boy wasn't as bad as people made him seem?
My thoughts were interrupted when Spot turned on his left side to face me. He was still sleeping and breathing heavily, his eyelids spazzing back and forth. I remembered reading a book about a theory that said when a person's eyelids move they are dreaming.
He looked so peaceful, like nothing the world bothered him, like he had no weight on his shoulders. The was his chest rose and fell with each passing breath, the way his bangs swept in front of his twitching eyes. I dared to reach forward to push the stray pieces away and let out a sigh of relief he didn't wake up when I did. But my relief soon ended when his head turned to face the other side. His sudden movement startled me and my hand flew away from his face. His hands curled up in to fists, clenching and unclenching and his muscles were twitching. Seconds later he started moaning, almost like he was in pain. Then it dawned on me that he was having a nightmare. I knew one when I was one because when I was younger, I was a victim on night terrors and nightmares. They were always the same, my father dying, my mother abandoning me, and then my brother leaving me also. They were the worst, but most of the time, I could not remember them.
I knew not to wake a person when they are sleeping, but it seemed I didn't have to. In an instant Spot's eyes flew open, and he sat up from the mattress, tears swelling up in his waterlines and tear ducts. He was sweating and panting hard, clutching the bed sheets in his fists. He closed his eyes, leaned back down on the pillow, and took a moment to center himself, something he seemed used to doing. It took him a moment to look over at me. I want sure what I should have done, so I just sat there in bed, looking down at my thumbs as they twiddled with themselves. I snuck a glance at him only to shoot my eyes back down as I realized he was staring at me.
"What?" he asked sharply. "Even stay in a bed with a guy who had nightmares befora?"
'No." I answered truthfully. "But I know what it's like to have nightmares." I told him remembering my own. He looked at me as if he didn't believe me and pulled the thin sheet off of himself and got up.
"Okay look, I'se is already late for woik, but you'se is gunna stay here. I'm keepin on of my boys ere ta stay with ya. Make sure you'se don't get in no trouble." He told me as he grabbed a shirt from his dresser and put it on.
I nodded to represent I understood.
"Now I'se is serious, no trouble. Nothing. I'se got some important things ta take care of today, an I'se don't need you'se getting in da way."
"What am I supposed to do all day?" I asked.
"Like I'se care." He said putting his suspenders on over his shoulders. "Just don't step foot out of dis warehouse. "Do you'se understand?"
Once again I nodded.
"Good."
He started to walk to the door then stopped midway.
"And I'se can trust you'se not ta go to da third floor?"
"Yes." I said. I did not want a repeat of what happened last time.
"Good." He said once again, and then he went out the door and was gone.
I sighed to myself and leaned back on the pillow staring up at the molding paint chipped ceiling. I wished there were books I could read, but I knew what a luxury books were to street kids. Heck, they would be lucky if they knew how to read. Maybe when Spot came back I would build up some courage and ask him if there was a library in Brooklyn and if I could go-under chaperone of course. I sighed once again and rolled out of bed replacing my night dress with the clothing I wore yesterday. I looked in the mirror Spot had and tied my hair in a ponytail at the base of my neck with the ribbon.
I walked downstairs to see, sure enough two newsies in the common room. Guards no doubt. I wandered around the first floor and decided to myself if I was to stay here, possibly forever, then I would at least want to live in a clean place. So I found a wooden bucket and a water pump, filled it up and with the apron of my dress, started to wash the windows.
"Breaker, come ere." Spot said as he spotted his "cousin" selling his papers on the busy Brooklyn streets. Brandon "Breaker" Shaw came t0 Brooklyn 3 years ago when he was twelve. With no parents, Spot took him in and made him an adoptive family member-hence the "cousin". The younger newsie ran across the bustling street to meet Spot on the other side.
"What's up?" he asked. Before Spot answered, he led his cousin down the road a few feet and turned into a deserted alley for privacy. He didn't want anyone overhearing his plan.
"Look, I'se know dis is gunna be dangerous, but I'se need ya ta do something foar me."
"Anything cuz." Breaker responded.
"I'se need ya ta go ta da Bronx." Spot said straight out.
"What, Spot are you'se crazy! I've done some pretty bad stuff foar you before, bud dis is just crazy! In case you'se didn't know's we'se is kinda in da middle of a war here's!" Breaker shouted at his cousin, receiving in return a shove on the shoulder.
"I know's we'se is in a war, I ain't stupid! But I'se need someone ta go over dere and pretend they's want ta join dem. You'se know, spy on dem."
"An you want me ta do dis?"
"Yep."
Breaker let out a deep sigh and pinched he bridge of his nose-a habit he had when he get put into sticky situations.
"Look cuz, you'se know I'se would do anything for you'se, and for Brooklyn, but dis is just insane! It's like going straight into da lions den. I mean, what do ya want me ta do anyways?"
"I'se need ya ta get information." Spot said holding out a crinkled folded up piece of parchment. Reluctantly, Breaker took the paper in his ink stained hands and gazed into his leader's eyes. He knew Spot wouldn't ask him to do something like this if it wasn't truly necessary and for a moment, Break was worried for Brooklyn. He would do anything he protect Brooklyn, and he wanted to help.
"What do ya want me ta do's?"
"Try not ta scream."
Spots comment all made sense to Breaker as he tumbled to the ground a shooting pain in his eye. Spot hit him, hard enough that there was going to be some coloring by the afternoon. As Breaker lay on the gound he looked up angrily and in disbelief at Spot.
"What da hell was dat foar!" he shouted as he stood up, ignoring Spot's hand for help.
"Look, if you'se gotta play dis part, you'se gotta do it right."
"Yeah and what part is dat? A punching bag?"
Spot smirked at his cousin's quick tongue, and proceeded to tell him of his master plan.
Breaker started his long journey to the Bronx as quickly as possible. It was a long walk, and he wanted to get there before a respectable curfew. His left eye was swollen and purple, thanks to Spot's punch, but Breaker soon realized that his plan was genius and didn't mind it much after.
He walked through Brooklyn, over the bridge, through Manhattan and entered Bronx sometime around three o'clock he guessed. As soon as he stepped over territory lines, he began to feel very anxious and very, very watched. He tried to stay the best he could on the main streets, but vendors were closing shop and customers were going home to their families. With nobody on the street for witnesses, Breaker was a very easy target. He just kept repeating the plan to himself and what Spot wanted him to say over and over in his brain. He had been the whole walk down. He had done things like this for pot before-create a new identity, a new life, a new story-but never had it felt like so much pressure. One wrong move, and he would be done for.
As Breaker approached the street where the lodging house of the Bronx Boys was, he herds footsteps behind him. Knowing from experience not to stop and look around, Breaker kept going, walking steadily towards the doors of the lodging house. He walked up the steps, heart pounding with each step and he finally got to the door. He raised his hand ready to knock when a voice from behind stopped him.
"Don't. Move. A mussel." The voice said. Breaker's arm stopped mid way and he froze inches from the door. To show he meant no harm he put both his hands up near his head as a term of surrender.
"Turn around."
Breaker did so, arms still at eye level, and came face to face with a newsie who looked about Spot's age, a few years older than him.
"Who are ya's and what are you'se doin at our house?" the boy asked.
"My names Kevin, but everyone calls me Fooler. I came here ta join da newsies."
The boy behind him took this into consideration before grabbing Breaker's collar, opening the door, and shoving him inside.
As Breaker stumbled to the floor, he took in the Bronx's lodging house. It was big, but not as big as Brooklyn's, but it was cleaner, and wasn't as moldy or rotten.
"Don't move." The boy shouted as he walked over to a flight of stairs. "Hey, boss!" he shouted up to the next floor. "Dere's something ya should see!"
In ten seconds flat, a group of newsies had come into the common room and there in front of Breaker stood Luciano, leader of the Bronx Boys.
"Well, well." He said. "What did you find for me this time Phil?"
"Found him outside da door, said he wanted ta become a newsie." The apparent Phil said.
"Is that so? Well, what's your name kid, we'll start with that."
"Fooler."
"Alright and why did you come to the Bronx?"
"Well, I didn't come here at foist. I just came from Brooklyn."
At the mention of that name Luciano snapped around to look at Breaker. Involuntarily, he gulped.
"Well why ain't you'se in Brookyln. Conlon would never turn down a kid who wants ta work for him."
"Well he did to me!" Breaker spoke out. "Even soaked me for my troubles!" he added pointing to his black eye. "Said I wasn't tough enough for Brooklyn or somethin. Said I should try Bronx."
Breaker saw rage flash in Luciano's eyes at the insult, and inside he laughed. But this was serious. Life or death.
"So he soaked me and told e ta get lost, but not before 'e gave me dis."
Breaker reached in to his vest pocket where he produced the note Spot had given him earlier.
"What is it?" Luciano asked grabbing the parchment fro him.
"Hell if I know's. He just gave it to me and told me ta give it ta da Bronx leader-which I assume is youse- before he told me ta get lost unless I wanted another soakin'."
"I'se don't know if we'se can trust him Boss." Another voice spoke out. "What with him bein around Conlon an all that."
"Shut up Gavino. "Luciano snapped. "Da kid is harmless."
"But you even said not ta trust nobody. We don't even know this kid, where he came from, anything!"
"That is true." Luciano pondered his colleagues words. "Alright Runt, talk. Tell us your story."
Breaker told the Bronx newsies his "background story." –The fake one that Spot made up for him, the one that he had been rehearsing in his head for three hours. His name was Kevin Hill, orphaned in Richmond and had gotten fired from his job at the steel factory. He moved to Brooklyn where he though his uncle was, but he had moved to Penn state. With no money and no job, he wanted to become a newsie for Brooklyn, but Spot didn't give him a chance, and now he was here-in Bronx.
"Alright kid. Gavino, were having a change of plans." The Bronx leader said. " I've decided to let this little runt a chance to prove himself."
"But he aint even from here!" Gavino stepped forward, ready to throw the smaller boy out on the street if need be. "Shoah, let some midget weakling help run the place! Youse don't even know a damn thing about 'im! Christ, Luciano, what the hell is ya problem? I thought you'se was smarter than this!"
"If youse got something against my decision to keep him, Gavino, why don't say it tah me face." Luciano reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade. It wasn't big, but it was big enough to make Breakers eyes go wide. Even Spot didn't carry around a blade. He did have a slingshot though, and a cane, so he guessed that made up for it. But Spot always said he hated knives. For some reason.
Luciano smirked at him. "Alright. Why don't we see what the hell Spot Conlon wanted?"
The room fell silent as Luciano opened the parchment, the only sound was the crinkling of the paper as Luciano opened the note.
Luciano looked up from the paper. "Is this some kind of joke?"
Gavino took the note from Luciano and let his eyes fall onto it. Breaker peered over Gavino's shoulder to look at Spot's handwritten penmanship. A few moments later, he had completed reading the message and had to bite the inside of his cheeks from forming into a grin.
'In case you've forgotten, we still have ya dear sister in our possession. We'se giving ya one week to step down from power and move your sorry asses to New Jersey. Make us wait a second longer than that and we'll put a bullet through your sister's pretty little head.
Runner liked that line especially. Spot had always been good at detailed description. It was pure genius. He had to admit, Spot was quite the cunning leader; he gave him that much credit at least. But he wasn't sure if he really would kill that girl or not...but why not use Luciano's sister as bait? Why not threaten to kill the girl if it would force the Bronx out of this stupid war? Pure genius.
"Sure as hell doesn't seem like a joke." the young newsie answered keeping his cover that he had no idea about any of this.. "Maybe he thinks threatening people will scare dem into doin what he wants. But you'se don't seem like da crowd dat will run from a fight."
Gavino nodded his head in agreement. "That's right we ain't."
Then Breaker noticed another boy enter the small circle, he grabbed the note from Luciano and read over.
"D'ya really think they'd kill Belle?" the boy asked, a worried expression plastered onto his face.
"I doubt it." Gavino answered.
"The hell he won't!" The boy yelled. "We gotta get Bell out of there! It ain't safe, who knows what that beast Conlon is doin ta her!"
"Your right West. We can't let Conlon keep calling the shots just cause he has someone from our side."
"You mean, he has your sister, but you won't do what he says to get her back?" Breaker asked hoping to get some information.
"It's more complicated than that kid. We can't just barge into Brooklyn to get her. We need a steady plan of attack, one that Conlon won't see coming."
Now they were getting somewhere. Breaker thought. This wasn't going to be so hard after all.
"Hey, send me tah Brooklyn! Send me tah Spot and lemme speak on behalf of Harlem. I'se can convince him tah not kill the goil. Hell, I can woik out new terms for this truce wid him. Send me!"
"Look, I know he soaked ya but let ya off the hook, and its brave what you wanna do, but you have no idea who youse is going up against, kid." Marcello crumbled the note in his hand. "you were lucky, he could have easily kill ya if he wanted."
"Trust me, I'se can do this. He aint gunna kill me, I knows it! Send me."
Marcello shook his head. "No. If Brooklyn wants to play hard, were going to play hard. Tomorrow, Gavino, youse go tah Brooklyn and find out from our source if they have anything for me, and give 'im a note fer me."
Gavino agreed and out the corner of his eyes saw the frustrated look on Breaker's face. Why did the kid want to go to Brooklyn so badly? Especially what had happened to him that day. Something was not right here... and Gavino didn't trust that boy one bit.
~*~Belle~*~
As I cleaned I could not stop thinking about Gavino's words to me. Bronx wants me to spy for the, I have never spied on anything before, and now they want me to learn Brooklyn's secrets and report back. I had no idea how I was going to do this seeing as I was locked inside, watched like a hawk. But I wanted to help Bronx and my brother with as little bloodshed possible.
I would do what I could, but I didn't know there were choices ahead. And I didn't know those choices were going to be so hard to make, but what choices are?
A/N part two. Oooooohhh. So now there are spies on both sides…wonder how that's going to turn out. And I'm not just saying that to tease you, I really don't know anymore that you! But hey, cut me some slack, I'm making this up a I go! So I know a lot of my readers love the connections that I make between Beauty and the Beast, and I'm sorry here are like none in this chapter, but there will be plenty more in the future, I promise. The only one I put in was Breaker's "new identity" Fooler. Kind of ironic, I know, but I got the inspiration from Gaston's little sidekick Lefou which translates in French as the fool. So there you go! I have some ideas for more references, but believe it or not, this story is getting pretty hard to write. But don't worry, I will make it work. If you guys have any input, let me know in a review! I love to hear from you guys and what you think of my writing. It really does make my day! So please review, follow and favorite for more chapters to come! Until next time!