A/N: I hate Valentines!!!!!!
Disclaimer: *Stares blankly*
::
As usual, Spot Conlon, the toughest leader in all of New York, was perched on the dock eyeing his kingdom.
It was February fourteenth; the day Spot hated the most. Valentine's Day. He sneered at the couples walking by staring into each other's eyes all lovey-dovey. The other newsies seemed to like the dreaded Valentine's day, they would take their girls to the park and who knows what else.
Spot admitted freely that he couldn't keep a girl for any longer than a week; he had been with nearly every girl in New York (or so he said.) As far as anyone could tell, that was just how Spot was; he didn't seem to mind never having a steady girlfriend. Or so it seemed.
Spot clambered down from his perch, ignoring the lovesick (and pathetic in his opinion) couples floating around.
"Disgustin'." He thought as he ambled across the infamous Brooklyn Bridge. The thought of receiving a heart shaped piece of paper with mushy writing repulsed him.
As he approached Tibby's, his heart began to feel strangely heavy. Almost.. sad. Could it be? The tough as nails Brooklyn leader feeling alone?
Spot collapsed into a booth, resting his head in his hands. He had never felt this way before. How many February fourteenths had he lived through? Plenty. So why was he feeling so unloved now?
"I guess I'd kinda like a valentine." He thought aloud. His eyes widened as he realized there were other people who could have heard him say that around. No one seemed to notice.
He sighed in relief and beckoned the waiter.
Someone HAD heard. Someone sitting in the booth right behind Spot. The listener smiled slightly.
~*~*~*~
The next morning, Spot awoke to the scent of lavender. Something red loomed in front of him.
"What da hell is this?!" He exclaimed, picking up the red thing, it was heart shaped.
One of the boys eyed the paper, "Ooohh Spot's got a Valentine!"
"Who's the girl, Spot?" Someone called out.
Spot glanced down at the Valentine. It was signed, 'Your Secret Admirer' in curly letters. Inside, Spot's heart was bursting with joy, but he would never admit that. He shoved the Valentine in his pocket carelessly and forgot about it.
Later on that evening, Spot returned to the Lodging House after a long and tiring day of selling papers. Remembering the Valentine, he took it out of his pocket, and making sure no one was around, read it once more. Who could it be?
He read the Valentine over and over, while walking absently towards his bunk. Something large and squishy suddenly appeared in front of him. Spot peered through the darkness at the shape. It seemed to be a person.
'Ooooh goody! You got my Valentine!" The shape exclaimed, jumping and squealing with delight. Spot was frozen.
Stepping into the light, his Valentine appeared. It was... Snyder.
Spot's eyes went as wide as dinner plates, as Snyder giggled and winked at him. And as Snyder enveloped him in a windpipe-crushing hug, Spot fainted, his last thought, "I hate Valentine's Day!" slowly dissolving into the darkness.
Disclaimer: *Stares blankly*
::
As usual, Spot Conlon, the toughest leader in all of New York, was perched on the dock eyeing his kingdom.
It was February fourteenth; the day Spot hated the most. Valentine's Day. He sneered at the couples walking by staring into each other's eyes all lovey-dovey. The other newsies seemed to like the dreaded Valentine's day, they would take their girls to the park and who knows what else.
Spot admitted freely that he couldn't keep a girl for any longer than a week; he had been with nearly every girl in New York (or so he said.) As far as anyone could tell, that was just how Spot was; he didn't seem to mind never having a steady girlfriend. Or so it seemed.
Spot clambered down from his perch, ignoring the lovesick (and pathetic in his opinion) couples floating around.
"Disgustin'." He thought as he ambled across the infamous Brooklyn Bridge. The thought of receiving a heart shaped piece of paper with mushy writing repulsed him.
As he approached Tibby's, his heart began to feel strangely heavy. Almost.. sad. Could it be? The tough as nails Brooklyn leader feeling alone?
Spot collapsed into a booth, resting his head in his hands. He had never felt this way before. How many February fourteenths had he lived through? Plenty. So why was he feeling so unloved now?
"I guess I'd kinda like a valentine." He thought aloud. His eyes widened as he realized there were other people who could have heard him say that around. No one seemed to notice.
He sighed in relief and beckoned the waiter.
Someone HAD heard. Someone sitting in the booth right behind Spot. The listener smiled slightly.
~*~*~*~
The next morning, Spot awoke to the scent of lavender. Something red loomed in front of him.
"What da hell is this?!" He exclaimed, picking up the red thing, it was heart shaped.
One of the boys eyed the paper, "Ooohh Spot's got a Valentine!"
"Who's the girl, Spot?" Someone called out.
Spot glanced down at the Valentine. It was signed, 'Your Secret Admirer' in curly letters. Inside, Spot's heart was bursting with joy, but he would never admit that. He shoved the Valentine in his pocket carelessly and forgot about it.
Later on that evening, Spot returned to the Lodging House after a long and tiring day of selling papers. Remembering the Valentine, he took it out of his pocket, and making sure no one was around, read it once more. Who could it be?
He read the Valentine over and over, while walking absently towards his bunk. Something large and squishy suddenly appeared in front of him. Spot peered through the darkness at the shape. It seemed to be a person.
'Ooooh goody! You got my Valentine!" The shape exclaimed, jumping and squealing with delight. Spot was frozen.
Stepping into the light, his Valentine appeared. It was... Snyder.
Spot's eyes went as wide as dinner plates, as Snyder giggled and winked at him. And as Snyder enveloped him in a windpipe-crushing hug, Spot fainted, his last thought, "I hate Valentine's Day!" slowly dissolving into the darkness.