A/T: Yay! A happy fic! 'Hush' made me depressed =P So I wrote this.
Anyway, I don't know much about gambling and all that shmuck, so if I get
something wrong be kind. (I know some of the grammar isn't correct, but
it's meant to be like that =D) Not a (big) romance or Mary Sue. Deals with
Race. Title subject to change. Anyshmoo, I love you all, so enjoy! =D
Btw, thanks to all my reviewers for 'Hush'.
Disclaimer: No matter how many times I send creepy 'I know where you live' letters to Disney, I will never own Newsies.
:: Ace of Hearts ::
It was one of those real hot summers. Muggy, you know?
Me and the boys would scuff around the city, waving our newspapers around half-heartedly, calling out the headlines through the thick heat. Our eyelids growing heavier as the sun pressed against them, making us squint.
I hated days like that. All I wanted to do was go back to bed, let the world turn without me for a while. Kloppman could care less about what I wanted to do. Every day at dawn, there he was, large as life shoutin' at us to get up. Some days I wanted to knock him down with my pillow. Not that I had anything against the old guy, he just irked me. Ruffled my feathers. Clapped my cards. You get the picture.
I'd spend my time making bets, going to the races (hence the name), and playing poker, craps, anything that could get me a few bucks. Or lose some. Not that was often or anything, Lady Luck has a soft spot for me.
It was all her fault I got into the trouble that summer that I did.
:: A. o . H ::
I guess it was a Thursday. I never really did keep track of time, usually just guessing from the date on the papers. One of those sticky like days.
I was selling with Dutchy. Quiet kid. Knew how to sell his papes though. Fifteen in twenty minutes! Damn good. I was lumping about as usual, my mind wandering to tonight's poker game. I was gonna win this time. Those Queens boys were going to get their money's worth. God only knew I needed the money. After a week of selling about thirty papes, and Kloppman threatening to throw me out, I was counting on this game. I glanced over at Dutchy, the sudden cry of today's headlines jolting me out of my thoughts. He was handing his last paper to a customer. Shit. I'd sold about three. He gave me a small shrug and bounded of to meet the boys at Tibby's.
My stack of papers seemed to grow even taller as I watched him grow into a small blur. A few more hours, I told myself, a few hours then I'm on my way to victory. I could smell the money, picturing it piled high as my papers. A small smile crept on to my face.
A girl stalked by, smiling coyly and giggling. Guess she thought that smile was meant for her. She walked real slow past me, casting shy glances. I can't say I really noticed. Girls are trouble. Not that I didn't enjoy the company here and there, but once you get a few bucks.... BAM! They suck all your cash outta you like the air from your lungs after you get punched in the gut. Women.
I was ready to fall on my knees and pray to God above for my papes to be sold and the sky to break into rain. The heat was really starting to get to me. Chewing on my nerves, my mood leapin' from just plain pissed to rage. My last nerve snapped, and I threw down the papers, smacking them onto the frying sidewalk. A man 'harrumphed' at me and frowned. Can't say I cared. All I wanted to do was get out of the goddamn sun!
I would've ran, but my legs refused to comply. I ended up at Tibby's about fifteen minutes later. Sweat poured down my brow, and I wiped it away with a single sleeve. Tossing my soaked hat onto the stand, I collapsed into a chair. Tibby's was cooler. A swim in the crisp lake after a day in the burning sun. Absolutely perfect.
I looked quickly at my pocket watch; it's once gleaming face now dull and more bronze than gold. Quarter to five. I didn't realize it was that late, time sure flies when you're being baked alive! Only two or so hours 'til the poker game. In the shade of the restaurant, I felt free to brag about my surefire win tonight. Davey clucked his tongue at me, showing disapproval. Aw, what did that big dumb chicken know anyway? I gave him my dead-man impression. He crossed his arms all huffy and turned away.
As seven o'clock grew closer, my bragging began to rise.
"You're so sure you're gonna win, Race. I'm gonna laugh if you lose. Serves you right if you do, I'm tellin' you." Jack sniffed.
I pretended to pray; my eyes squeezed shut tight, "Oh please, Lord, don't let Jack the Preacher scorn me into losing! Please, Lord!" I opened one eye and peered at Jack. He glared.
Getting up off my knees, I laughed, "Ain't no way I'm losing Jacky boy. Lady Luck is my date tonight. No chance." I swung the chain of my cross pendant just to make a point.
Not a chance.
Derby: Don't assume anything yet ;)
Btw, thanks to all my reviewers for 'Hush'.
Disclaimer: No matter how many times I send creepy 'I know where you live' letters to Disney, I will never own Newsies.
:: Ace of Hearts ::
It was one of those real hot summers. Muggy, you know?
Me and the boys would scuff around the city, waving our newspapers around half-heartedly, calling out the headlines through the thick heat. Our eyelids growing heavier as the sun pressed against them, making us squint.
I hated days like that. All I wanted to do was go back to bed, let the world turn without me for a while. Kloppman could care less about what I wanted to do. Every day at dawn, there he was, large as life shoutin' at us to get up. Some days I wanted to knock him down with my pillow. Not that I had anything against the old guy, he just irked me. Ruffled my feathers. Clapped my cards. You get the picture.
I'd spend my time making bets, going to the races (hence the name), and playing poker, craps, anything that could get me a few bucks. Or lose some. Not that was often or anything, Lady Luck has a soft spot for me.
It was all her fault I got into the trouble that summer that I did.
:: A. o . H ::
I guess it was a Thursday. I never really did keep track of time, usually just guessing from the date on the papers. One of those sticky like days.
I was selling with Dutchy. Quiet kid. Knew how to sell his papes though. Fifteen in twenty minutes! Damn good. I was lumping about as usual, my mind wandering to tonight's poker game. I was gonna win this time. Those Queens boys were going to get their money's worth. God only knew I needed the money. After a week of selling about thirty papes, and Kloppman threatening to throw me out, I was counting on this game. I glanced over at Dutchy, the sudden cry of today's headlines jolting me out of my thoughts. He was handing his last paper to a customer. Shit. I'd sold about three. He gave me a small shrug and bounded of to meet the boys at Tibby's.
My stack of papers seemed to grow even taller as I watched him grow into a small blur. A few more hours, I told myself, a few hours then I'm on my way to victory. I could smell the money, picturing it piled high as my papers. A small smile crept on to my face.
A girl stalked by, smiling coyly and giggling. Guess she thought that smile was meant for her. She walked real slow past me, casting shy glances. I can't say I really noticed. Girls are trouble. Not that I didn't enjoy the company here and there, but once you get a few bucks.... BAM! They suck all your cash outta you like the air from your lungs after you get punched in the gut. Women.
I was ready to fall on my knees and pray to God above for my papes to be sold and the sky to break into rain. The heat was really starting to get to me. Chewing on my nerves, my mood leapin' from just plain pissed to rage. My last nerve snapped, and I threw down the papers, smacking them onto the frying sidewalk. A man 'harrumphed' at me and frowned. Can't say I cared. All I wanted to do was get out of the goddamn sun!
I would've ran, but my legs refused to comply. I ended up at Tibby's about fifteen minutes later. Sweat poured down my brow, and I wiped it away with a single sleeve. Tossing my soaked hat onto the stand, I collapsed into a chair. Tibby's was cooler. A swim in the crisp lake after a day in the burning sun. Absolutely perfect.
I looked quickly at my pocket watch; it's once gleaming face now dull and more bronze than gold. Quarter to five. I didn't realize it was that late, time sure flies when you're being baked alive! Only two or so hours 'til the poker game. In the shade of the restaurant, I felt free to brag about my surefire win tonight. Davey clucked his tongue at me, showing disapproval. Aw, what did that big dumb chicken know anyway? I gave him my dead-man impression. He crossed his arms all huffy and turned away.
As seven o'clock grew closer, my bragging began to rise.
"You're so sure you're gonna win, Race. I'm gonna laugh if you lose. Serves you right if you do, I'm tellin' you." Jack sniffed.
I pretended to pray; my eyes squeezed shut tight, "Oh please, Lord, don't let Jack the Preacher scorn me into losing! Please, Lord!" I opened one eye and peered at Jack. He glared.
Getting up off my knees, I laughed, "Ain't no way I'm losing Jacky boy. Lady Luck is my date tonight. No chance." I swung the chain of my cross pendant just to make a point.
Not a chance.
Derby: Don't assume anything yet ;)