Thank you to JP for reading and giving me encouragement to post! Man, I couldn't have done it without you. Sniff Sniff.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY NEWSIES. Why do you keep having to remind me? Ahhh!!!

Note: This was written when my head was falling into my keyboard and my fingers were just tap-dancing away all on their own. So I really have no connection with this fic. If ya like it, I do. If u don't like it, blame my fingers. *clenches fist to keep fingers from jumping all over*.
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Another Chance

In the city, there is snow.

In snow, there is cold.

So, by that thing I'm not sure what it's called....oh yeah, logic. By the process of logic, there is cold in the city.

You must realize I have no clue what I'm talking about. Never went to school for more than a few days at a time.

But I do know something - in a newsies world, you do something wrong, they freeze you out.

Freeze you out until you are so cold, from your insides to your skin, that nothing seems to matter anymore, and everything is numb.

So it only seems fitting that I think about that, out here on the streets in my worn jacket, shivering from loneliness and the cold that doesn't come from snow or ice or wind.

I don't think I did anything wrong. Heck, if I were anyone else but Racetrack Higgins it would have blown over without a second thought. But no, I was Racetrack. I was the smartass, the one with the clever hands and quick wit.

I should have known better, they said.

But I ask you - was it that bad? Was it really that bad?

Was it bad enough that I deserve to be put into exile for the rest of my miserable life?

I don't think so.

But everyone else seems to. That's the hard part. Convincing my friends that it was a mistake; I messed up, everyone does. It's not like I meant to do it.

You would think I did it on purpose or something, that I planned that whole damned thing out step by step.

But it wasn't like that. For god's sake, can't ya just give me another chance?

Each and every one of ya knows - I deserve another chance.

Jack - I'm your pal; I've helped you through tough times. Even when we all thought you were a scabba, I welcomed you back with open arms.

And Blink. I've know ya since you was six, a little kid with one big eye begging wordlessly for help on that street corner so long ago. Who was the one who introduced you to the newsies, taught ya to sell the papes? So much for carryin the banner.

All of you. You worthless pieces of scum. I thought ya were my friends. That ya would stick by me through thick and thin.

And when I turn my back you stick a knife in it.

When I mess up you freeze me out like I never existed.

Like I ain't the one to help Mush all the times those girls dump him. Like I ain't the one to keep Snoddy from jumpin off the bridge that night, while all the rest of ya were sleeping. Like I ain't the one who lets Snipeshooter get away with stealing my cigar half the time, when they cost me a full day's sellin money if I cant steal one again.

Like I wasn't the one who kept the Manhattan newsies together. That's right, it's me. Not Jack, who's full of hot air. Not David, who's all bluff.

It's me, Racetrack Higgins. The solid foundation that everyone, with all their quirks and fears, leans on.

Me.

If I could I would run away, run away from all you bums. Leave all your worthless behinds in NYC and become a king somewhere else, somewhere where I might find real friends.

And to think after all these years I couldn't make a single honest pal.

It wasn't that bad, you guys. I begged with you, I pleaded with you. And all you did was follow Jack - out the door and into the Lodging House across Midtown.

So what, so you all can't stay here no more. There are other places to go, other places to sleep and sell and eat and play cards. Other such places where a newsie can go on living.

I didn't deserve this. Still don't.

Didn't mean to do it, I swear. How was I supposed to know that a harmless rumor could be so awful?

Hey, how was I supposed to know that the newsies in Manhattan are some of the biggest gossip's I've ever had the pleasure of meeting?

Jesus Christ. Can't you see it was unintentional?

A little fun, that's all it was. A little whisper here and there, to get him back for when he soaked me that other night. Who cares if I was cheating him at poker? He didn't have to soak me so bad.

For an old guy, he's pretty strong.

Like I thought anyone would believe it when I said he was sleeping around with us newsies; he used the Lodging House as a cover up to keep unsuspecting young boys in his house for his perverted little fantasies.

I didn't think anyone would believe it, honest.

I thought it was funny.

Guess no one else did.

But it was a mistake! Can't you see that? Can't ya see I'm not like that?

Can't you see I deserve another chance?

I didn't mean to get Kloppman killed by those policemen. Really, I didn't.

I had no idea that this would get so out of hand.

How could cops be so cruel; that they would beat an old man to death because of a rumor, a tip?

Even though there was no evidence.

And then you freeze me out. Don't you see I am suffering just as much as you? I don't have another place to stay, either.

You think I like sleepin on the streets?

You all have it all wrong. All of you. It as a mistake - how many times do I have to tell you.

Goddamit, it was a mistake.

A mistake.

Mistake..........

I deserve another chance.