I do not own Disney, and I don't own newsies.
This story was written while listening to these CD's: the 1'st Punk O'Rama CD, a dropkick Murphy's tour CD, and a techno/rave CD. All are good CD's. And it's very inspirational for fan fiction.
Please read: when ever there's a sentence with this - on the outside of it, that means the persons thoughts, since italics don't work on fanfiction.net ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Rave
When all you have left is to dance
She stood on her toes. They felt like they were to bleed right through her satin pink shoes. She had been dancing for hours.
-Damn. Damn life, Damn teachers, Damn pirouettes. Damn toes for dancing. -
She swore, cursed as her insomniac self as she danced through the tough night.
-Why did god create dancing? Why did god create music? Are you out there? -
She stopped dancing for a second on her roof. A light flickered in her brain. It grew from a bright flicker into a glimmering flame.
-What if I were to go away from my life of always being the dancing queen of New York City? What if I were to change my identity away from the dancing Harlem circus? -
She looked off somewhere between the stars and the heavens for an answer.
-But what would become of me? Starved? Hungry? A stripper with out much else to live for but a few tips? No. I'm going away from anything involving dancing. My toes hurt like hell.-
Rogue sat down on an overturned milk crate oddly on her roof. Rubbing her toes with the palm of her hand. She quickly unlaced her dancing shoes for the first time in a many weeks. She found it hard to slip out of them. She finally did and found a hard caked up layer of blood and dead skin at the bottom of the shoes.
-Um.eww. -
She picked on her bloody toes and found her last two toes stuck together with calloused dead skin and blood. She decided to leave them alone and give them air. Her other foot was not much different too.
-I cant live my life dancing all the time like my family has for generations. I have to do something different. But I cant let them down.well, I could.they already have enough other kids .I can change my identity quick enough and move south or into Brookland. I cant live my life as a dancing Kipsinny. -
Rogue looked down into the Harlem street as all the night shift workers were starting to head home from a long night at work. Daytime was coming. Newsies were piling out of their crevices in the earth to sell their ink- blotted papers. Rogue new from that moment her destiny.
-A newsie. Yea. I'll do that. -
-~(·_·)~-
The newsies piled out of the lower Manhattan lodging house. Kloppman was at his usual manor of counting as they went past him. In there hurried business to get all the way up to the world distribution center.
My world tied her bandanna around her head tighter. She made sure he dreadlocks didn't stick out too far. My world was the unusual, foreign girl with a huge Caribbean tan and dreadlocks. She was totally herself, in her own little world, reminiscing her past.
Next to my world walked the girl who was named Shoe. Or, in some instances, she was called Shoelace. She was the unexplainable girl with, basically, no shoes. Her soles were as hard as rock. American born, 100% Irish, and the girl you couldn't quite figure out. The girl who made everyone happy, or the girl you could go to if you had a problem. The random Irish girl you always needed around. She was as independent as an island and as nice as a May afternoon. As stoned as a monkey on vacation ((A/n: don't ask.. lol)) and as alive as a fly about to be swatted. Her bright blue eyes glistened in the may weather and her dirty blond hair was tied up into her hat nicely.
The newsgirls leader Nautical walked with her younger sister, soot, and apon her shoulders. She wore all dark colors like jack and idolized Jack since she joined and became the leader of the girls with her spunky attitude. Still, she wasn't quite the leader, jack controlled decisions a lot more then Nautical. She was named nautical for her love of the sea. Some wondered why she didn't move to Brookland.
Geronimo walked along with blink. Her curly blond hair bounced as she walked. She was the rejected rich girl who preferred the streets. ((A/n: Geronimo isn't the normal run-away rich girl Mary sues. Believe me. It took me a while to develop her away from that)) Geronimo's deep brown eyes glistened in the sun. She soaked her year and a half of being a newsie. Blink huge her tightly
Skudz ran up too the crowd and ran up into the arms of Dutchy. She was the mystery girl who said she lived with her family somewhere in the lower east side. But Dutchy was the only one who knew the truth and wouldn't tell a soul. Skudz had strait black hair that was cut up to her shoulders. She always had some song she was singing out loud that absolutely no one knew. She had worn really strange clothes the day she appeared. No one quite understood her, but tried to desperately.
The rest of the newsies ran around as they neared the distribution center. Waiting for the grand old gates to open.
-~(·_·)~-
Rogue fastened on her dads extra pair of leather boots. She hadn't worn regular shoes in years so she could tell it could take some getting used to. She took off her make up with a wet rag. She found herself a lot more beautiful clean and not caked up in makeup. Rogue left on her tights and put on her school pale green skirt. She grabbed her strait dirty blond hair and twisted them into pigtails. Then grabbed a shirt from the wash line and one of dad's oldest vests.
All dressed she ran down the morning chilled streets of Harlem. She checked the watched attached onto the vest. 4:00. She knew her parents were going to wake in an hour for work and her educated brothers and sisters were off to school. They would barely notice that she wasn't there. It wouldn't be until tonight's show at one of the many Harlem stages.
She yanked at her stockings, trying to avoid the pain of her feet. They were very unaccustomed to wearing regular shoes. She stopped and attempted pointing her feet to make them feel better. But instead, it hurt more. She felt like stopping, but she was already nearing Central park. More and more people spilled into the streets as she walked south. Newsies bounced around selling their trade, merchants brought out their trade to sell, and school kids started running out of their houses with their books to go to school. She watched New York awaken.
-~(·_·)~-
Shoe already had her daily bottle of beer in hand by 9:00. The bottle, half drunken, closed, and swinging gallantly by a belt loop and string around the neck of the bottle. Her newspaper happily in her left had. The rest in her right. She stood on her selling spot proudly.
It was then that shoelace saw the hurried girl crossing the street. She looked as a schoolgirl late for her classes, or a young woman late for work, or a dancer late for a show. Shoe could assume she was a dancer, just by looking at her complexion and body structure. But the questionable part was her clothes. Shoe was surprised when the girl was running toward herself. Shoe looked behind herself but there was noting but a brick wall.
"'Scuse me miss." Shoelace was surprised but the authorization. "Och, I guess ye aint used Te bein' called tha." She had a Russian accent, a Scottish accent, and a New York accent all rolled into one voice box.
"I'se guess I aint. I'm shoelace Catrelli."
"An' I'se Rogue Kipsinny. You'se ah a newsie aint ye?" she asked. Shoelace sighed.
"Why else would I be carrying a stack a papahs? Fer show?" shoe shook her head. "Wanna buy one?"
"Nah, I have a question, how can I become a newsie?"
Shoelace blinked. -Dis goil? She wants ta become a newsie? - "Jest follah me"
"Och! Thank ye." She took shoes hand and started shaking it like a wet piece of spaghetti. Shoe shook hands with the bubbly girl.
"Wid da way yer all bubbly you'se can float ta tibbys." Shoe took her hand back and put her papers in that hand.
"What's tibbys?" she asked
"Its wheah were going ta lunch, I would explain now but I'm gonna leave ya ta jack ta teach taday. I have declared taday 'official shoe laziness day' so, I will jest sell dese last 5 then were off ta lunch." Shoe walked away a bit and extended her paper in her hand upwards. "Huge meat factory boins down in Boston! Shoe called out "meat shortage occurrin'!" she sold 4 from passerby's
"Really? Rogue asked minutes later after they went to another street.
"No, see?" shoelace showed her the headline on her last paper left. 'Run down butcher shop finally burned down.'
"Why, yese lyin', ya ken?" shoelace and all the newsies loved saying the next line.
"Just as Jackey-boy says, it aint lyin' its just improving the truth. Welcome to your first lesson newbie." Shoe smiled and continued walking toward tibbys. Rogue followed behind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THIS STORY ISNT FINISHED YET Not even close. So, sit tight and enjoy the beginning.
Like it? Hate it sooo much you want to rant about it????? Don't understand something???? Please review! *Shoelace the shoeless wonder*
This story was written while listening to these CD's: the 1'st Punk O'Rama CD, a dropkick Murphy's tour CD, and a techno/rave CD. All are good CD's. And it's very inspirational for fan fiction.
Please read: when ever there's a sentence with this - on the outside of it, that means the persons thoughts, since italics don't work on fanfiction.net ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Rave
When all you have left is to dance
She stood on her toes. They felt like they were to bleed right through her satin pink shoes. She had been dancing for hours.
-Damn. Damn life, Damn teachers, Damn pirouettes. Damn toes for dancing. -
She swore, cursed as her insomniac self as she danced through the tough night.
-Why did god create dancing? Why did god create music? Are you out there? -
She stopped dancing for a second on her roof. A light flickered in her brain. It grew from a bright flicker into a glimmering flame.
-What if I were to go away from my life of always being the dancing queen of New York City? What if I were to change my identity away from the dancing Harlem circus? -
She looked off somewhere between the stars and the heavens for an answer.
-But what would become of me? Starved? Hungry? A stripper with out much else to live for but a few tips? No. I'm going away from anything involving dancing. My toes hurt like hell.-
Rogue sat down on an overturned milk crate oddly on her roof. Rubbing her toes with the palm of her hand. She quickly unlaced her dancing shoes for the first time in a many weeks. She found it hard to slip out of them. She finally did and found a hard caked up layer of blood and dead skin at the bottom of the shoes.
-Um.eww. -
She picked on her bloody toes and found her last two toes stuck together with calloused dead skin and blood. She decided to leave them alone and give them air. Her other foot was not much different too.
-I cant live my life dancing all the time like my family has for generations. I have to do something different. But I cant let them down.well, I could.they already have enough other kids .I can change my identity quick enough and move south or into Brookland. I cant live my life as a dancing Kipsinny. -
Rogue looked down into the Harlem street as all the night shift workers were starting to head home from a long night at work. Daytime was coming. Newsies were piling out of their crevices in the earth to sell their ink- blotted papers. Rogue new from that moment her destiny.
-A newsie. Yea. I'll do that. -
-~(·_·)~-
The newsies piled out of the lower Manhattan lodging house. Kloppman was at his usual manor of counting as they went past him. In there hurried business to get all the way up to the world distribution center.
My world tied her bandanna around her head tighter. She made sure he dreadlocks didn't stick out too far. My world was the unusual, foreign girl with a huge Caribbean tan and dreadlocks. She was totally herself, in her own little world, reminiscing her past.
Next to my world walked the girl who was named Shoe. Or, in some instances, she was called Shoelace. She was the unexplainable girl with, basically, no shoes. Her soles were as hard as rock. American born, 100% Irish, and the girl you couldn't quite figure out. The girl who made everyone happy, or the girl you could go to if you had a problem. The random Irish girl you always needed around. She was as independent as an island and as nice as a May afternoon. As stoned as a monkey on vacation ((A/n: don't ask.. lol)) and as alive as a fly about to be swatted. Her bright blue eyes glistened in the may weather and her dirty blond hair was tied up into her hat nicely.
The newsgirls leader Nautical walked with her younger sister, soot, and apon her shoulders. She wore all dark colors like jack and idolized Jack since she joined and became the leader of the girls with her spunky attitude. Still, she wasn't quite the leader, jack controlled decisions a lot more then Nautical. She was named nautical for her love of the sea. Some wondered why she didn't move to Brookland.
Geronimo walked along with blink. Her curly blond hair bounced as she walked. She was the rejected rich girl who preferred the streets. ((A/n: Geronimo isn't the normal run-away rich girl Mary sues. Believe me. It took me a while to develop her away from that)) Geronimo's deep brown eyes glistened in the sun. She soaked her year and a half of being a newsie. Blink huge her tightly
Skudz ran up too the crowd and ran up into the arms of Dutchy. She was the mystery girl who said she lived with her family somewhere in the lower east side. But Dutchy was the only one who knew the truth and wouldn't tell a soul. Skudz had strait black hair that was cut up to her shoulders. She always had some song she was singing out loud that absolutely no one knew. She had worn really strange clothes the day she appeared. No one quite understood her, but tried to desperately.
The rest of the newsies ran around as they neared the distribution center. Waiting for the grand old gates to open.
-~(·_·)~-
Rogue fastened on her dads extra pair of leather boots. She hadn't worn regular shoes in years so she could tell it could take some getting used to. She took off her make up with a wet rag. She found herself a lot more beautiful clean and not caked up in makeup. Rogue left on her tights and put on her school pale green skirt. She grabbed her strait dirty blond hair and twisted them into pigtails. Then grabbed a shirt from the wash line and one of dad's oldest vests.
All dressed she ran down the morning chilled streets of Harlem. She checked the watched attached onto the vest. 4:00. She knew her parents were going to wake in an hour for work and her educated brothers and sisters were off to school. They would barely notice that she wasn't there. It wouldn't be until tonight's show at one of the many Harlem stages.
She yanked at her stockings, trying to avoid the pain of her feet. They were very unaccustomed to wearing regular shoes. She stopped and attempted pointing her feet to make them feel better. But instead, it hurt more. She felt like stopping, but she was already nearing Central park. More and more people spilled into the streets as she walked south. Newsies bounced around selling their trade, merchants brought out their trade to sell, and school kids started running out of their houses with their books to go to school. She watched New York awaken.
-~(·_·)~-
Shoe already had her daily bottle of beer in hand by 9:00. The bottle, half drunken, closed, and swinging gallantly by a belt loop and string around the neck of the bottle. Her newspaper happily in her left had. The rest in her right. She stood on her selling spot proudly.
It was then that shoelace saw the hurried girl crossing the street. She looked as a schoolgirl late for her classes, or a young woman late for work, or a dancer late for a show. Shoe could assume she was a dancer, just by looking at her complexion and body structure. But the questionable part was her clothes. Shoe was surprised when the girl was running toward herself. Shoe looked behind herself but there was noting but a brick wall.
"'Scuse me miss." Shoelace was surprised but the authorization. "Och, I guess ye aint used Te bein' called tha." She had a Russian accent, a Scottish accent, and a New York accent all rolled into one voice box.
"I'se guess I aint. I'm shoelace Catrelli."
"An' I'se Rogue Kipsinny. You'se ah a newsie aint ye?" she asked. Shoelace sighed.
"Why else would I be carrying a stack a papahs? Fer show?" shoe shook her head. "Wanna buy one?"
"Nah, I have a question, how can I become a newsie?"
Shoelace blinked. -Dis goil? She wants ta become a newsie? - "Jest follah me"
"Och! Thank ye." She took shoes hand and started shaking it like a wet piece of spaghetti. Shoe shook hands with the bubbly girl.
"Wid da way yer all bubbly you'se can float ta tibbys." Shoe took her hand back and put her papers in that hand.
"What's tibbys?" she asked
"Its wheah were going ta lunch, I would explain now but I'm gonna leave ya ta jack ta teach taday. I have declared taday 'official shoe laziness day' so, I will jest sell dese last 5 then were off ta lunch." Shoe walked away a bit and extended her paper in her hand upwards. "Huge meat factory boins down in Boston! Shoe called out "meat shortage occurrin'!" she sold 4 from passerby's
"Really? Rogue asked minutes later after they went to another street.
"No, see?" shoelace showed her the headline on her last paper left. 'Run down butcher shop finally burned down.'
"Why, yese lyin', ya ken?" shoelace and all the newsies loved saying the next line.
"Just as Jackey-boy says, it aint lyin' its just improving the truth. Welcome to your first lesson newbie." Shoe smiled and continued walking toward tibbys. Rogue followed behind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THIS STORY ISNT FINISHED YET Not even close. So, sit tight and enjoy the beginning.
Like it? Hate it sooo much you want to rant about it????? Don't understand something???? Please review! *Shoelace the shoeless wonder*