Title: Newsies: Now and Forever

Chapter: Act 1 – When Newsies Are Maddened By The Midnight Dance, Scene 1 – I Dreamed a Dream

Author: Rosie [Papat K'Tanah]

Rating: PG-13 for Strong Language, Adult Situations

Disclaimer: Disney's got Newsies, Disney almost got Cats, but Andrew Lloyd Webber saved it and made it into a hit Broadway musical. T.S. Elliot owns all rights to the wordy aspects of Cats. Bless his dead soul. Any characters not recognizable from Newsies are my girls' girls. Or boys' boys. Boy's boy. Whatever. 3 NJL. I own Bridie O'Keegan and Zilya Kovalenko.

 ** * **

            "FUCK!" Tino howled as Firefrorefiddle finished just inches behind Noilly Prat. "I mean, Jesus, this fucking sucks! Damn horse!" He let out a few more four-letter words before stalking off. It dawned on him that he was hungry, and he huffed into the crowd with not just his stomach growling. Seizing an opportunity, Tino grabbed a lukewarm hot dog from a vendor, who had been trying to give the food to a paying customer.

            "Hey, you! Come back here!" The man, in a mustard-and-ketchup colored apron, seemed to be torn between getting his goods back and staying at his post near his pushcart. Tino flipped him off and took a huge bite before disappearing into the throng of people. He had a knack for vanishing when he was in trouble, something that had been useful during many a high school poker game. He could usually manage to grab most of the ante before the other boys could protest, or the administration (usually a portly, but surprisingly fast, janitor) could grab him.

            Tino was swallowing the last bite of hot dog when a familiar vibration startled his pants. A few more four-letter words and he managed to get his cell phone from his pocket and flip it open.

            "What the fuck do you want?" Tino growled into the phone, still quite angry about his horse losing the race – and him losing quite a bit of money.

            "I'm sorry, is this Tino Higgins? I'm afraid I might have the wrong number…" The voice sounded taken aback, and Tino furrowed his brow, trying to place the body to the peculiar, vaguely Russian accent at the other end.

            "Yeah, I'm Tino. Who's this?"

            "My name is Zilya Kovalenko. The director for New Broadway? We've spoken once before, and met briefly during your call-back for Cats." Tino took a sharp breath, prepared for yet another rejection by yet another director who doesn't want a man who looks like a boy. One who didn't even look like he could disco, let alone dance proper ballet and jazz. He was short, with the appearance of someone much stockier than he actually was. He'd auditioned for Cats on a whim, hoping that maybe they could use him as a "kitten" or something. But despite his hopes, he'd been turned down for too many parts to truly expect a role.

            "I'm not right for it, am I?"

            "No, Mr. Higgins…"

            "I knew it. Well, I guess we won't be talking again, then?"

            "No, Mr. Higgins, I meant, no, you are right for it. We've decided on you for a part."

            "No fucking way!"

            "Pardon me?" asked Zilya, in a tone that suggested one eyebrow was deftly raised.

            "Aw, Jesus, sorry. I meant thanks. Thanks!" Suddenly the loss at the track wasn't as "FUCK"-inspiring as it had been a moment ago. Tino would have a paycheck soon, not to mention that once he got to New York, rent wouldn't be an issue. Performers had the option of crashing in the New Broadway dorms, for free. It would keep him out of his mom's apartment, anyway, and that was good enough for him. After all, a twenty-one year old living with his mother? What could be more pathetic?

            Tino tried not to envision himself in a furry leotard, surrounded by gay guys in tight shorts.

** * **

            Dexter Myers, young, toned, and flexible, stood grinning like a Cheshire at the kitchen phone. He'd just been accepted into Cats. The musical. The Broadway musical. The great, world-renowned Broadway musical.

            And except for the fact that it had been taken off Broadway…

            Dex took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. A number of yoga poses later, it began to really sink in. Dexter Myers was going to be in Cats. Jumping up from his yoga mat, he did a jubilant cartwheel and let out an elated whoop, bringing his roommate running.

            "What, what is it?" Dex's roommate, Jake, found himself caught in a wild hug.

            "I got in, I got in!" Jake raised an eyebrow as Dexter did his patented happy dance, complete with booty shaking and a finale backflip. "I gotta' pack! I gotta' go! But not pee!"

            "That's great, Dex, but save packing for tomorrow. Let's go have fun tonight, y'know, give you time to bask in your glory before you're calling home whining that your muscles hurt and you forgot your toothbrush."

            Yes. That was good. A good idea. He needed to celebrate. He needed to commemorate his triumph over the other audition goers. He needed to express his joy at having a job, a show. He needed praise and congratulations, from himself and others.

            In short, he needed to get laid.

** * **

            Anne Stahl pushed her brown hair behind her ears, a quick glance in the reflective window telling her she needed to redo her blonde highlights. She adjusted her legs for comfort in the cramped Greyhound bus, and a piercing tingle in her feet let her know she'd been sitting on them too long. Stifling a yawn, she looked around for anyone – anyone at all – to talk to. A sleeping child across the aisle, an old man in front of her… she turned around, smiling at the person in the seat behind her, expecting a big smile in return. Young, about Anne's age, the woman smiled back very cautiously. Anne turned around, disappointed. The woman probably wouldn't have been a good conversationalist anyway.

            Anne changed her position again. Her muscles felt tight. "Way to stretch," she grumbled to herself. She grabbed her foot and brought her leg near parallel to her body, falling backwards and hitting the wall of the bus. Definitely not enough room to do proper stretching in a Greyhound. She tried to hold the position but it was awkward, folded in half by the side of the bus and the seat.

            "Where did you learn to do that?" Anne looked up, letting go of her leg and pushing herself out of the uncomfortable position. It was the woman from the seat behind her.

            "I do a lot of dance. In fact, that's why I'm headed to New York." Anne grinned at the woman and extended a hand. "I'm Anne Stahl."

            "Vivian Smith. That's really good, the way you can bring your leg up like that. Even in a bus." Anne grimaced.

            "It's easier in a dance studio. But I'll have one soon enough to work in, at New Broadway." Anne pushed back her highlighted hair, for probably the millionth time that day. "I'm going there to be in their production of Cats. You should come see us."

            "I just might do that."

** * **

            Bridie O'Keegan hugged herself happily, looking for her dorm room assignment on the board. She was giddy with excitement. Meeting her dorm-mates, meeting the cast, meeting the director. It was all just too thrilling. Her first real show… at New Broadway...

            "Excuse me," said a gentle voice. Bridie jumped, startled. She hadn't heard or seen anyone approaching. She turned to see a girl just a bit taller than her, with very dark hair that was a striking contrast to Bridie's carrot-colored pixie cut. Amused by the girl's "I Feel Pretty" shirt, Bridie moved out of the way to share the view of the dorm arrangements.

            "I'm Bridie. Bridie O'Keegan." Bridie grinned at the girl. "I'm in the Tabby Dorms. You?"

            "Margaret Williams, and I think I'm in Calico." She bit her lip. "Who are you going to play? Do you know yet?"

            "If you don't know, then I bet they haven't told anyone." Margaret nodded to say she hadn't been told either. "I want to play Victoria, but I doubt I'm good enough. And I think I'm too freckled." Bridie scrunched her nose. Margaret laughed, the sort of laugh that sounds forced and nervous. Bridie picked up her bags. "Want to head off to the dorms?"

            "Yeah," Margaret trailed off, looking a tad bit confused. "Which one was I in again?"

** * **

            Percival Edwards, trying to hide the giant "P.E." on his luggage tags, stumbled into his dormitory. The "Bombay" dorm had five male dancers in it, including him, but that was all he knew. He didn't know their characters or names or anything, just that he would be lumped in with four other guys of questionable sexuality for a year… or longer.

            Two of them were already in there. Some Asian kid, laughing his head off at something the other guy had said. They looked up at Percy, with generally friendly smiles.

            "Hey, name's Dex Myers," the seemingly funny one said, holding out his hand. Percy looked at it for a long time before saying anything. "Dex Myers" wasn't, to be blunt, white. At least, not all the way. Percival had never been around too many people of different races. He'd heard… things. But he was starting over with a new group, maybe what he'd heard wasn't true.

            But maybe it was.

            "Percy Edwards." He tentatively took Dex's hand, the other boy's perplexed expression melting into a huge smile. Dex clapped Percy on the back, gesturing to the second new face.

            "This is Kenneth Liu," Kenneth nodded courteously, and Dex went on, "And the other two guys in our dorm went out to grab some food. Peter Conlon and Sven Schuyler. Hope you like Mexican cuisine."

            Percy didn't know if he did or not. He'd never had Mexican cuisine.

** * **

            Zilya Kovalenko stood in front of the cafeteria, quieting the newly acquainted dancers. She was tall and thin, with unnaturally long, beautiful legs, and dark hair and eyes. She commanded any room's attention, even one filled with rowdy cats-to-be.

            "Welcome to New Broadway, your new home. Most of you know me already – you auditioned with me to get the very position you fill now. Don't lose it. I won't hesitate to rid you from my presence." Zilya smiled, a hint of cruelty lurking in her lips. "Beware. As your dance instructor, and acting director, I'm kind in the lunchroom, but in the dance studio, in rehearsals, onstage… you will wish you never tried out for this show.

            "These are my chief assistants," Zilya changed her tone of voice into something a little less threatening, motioning to the two women by her side. One, young and lightly tanned, stood up a little straighter to make up for the fact she was quite short, with a pleasantly solid build. A pencil stuck behind one ear peeked out from under her red fedora. The dancers murmured to themselves as she stepped forward.

            "Lute McDonaghey, musical director. I'll be your mommy here, since Zilya is more like a cruel grandmother." Lute grinned at her older colleague, who narrowed her eyes, partly in seriousness and partly in playfulness. The other woman, with wavy blonde hair and a build like Lute's, minus the fact that she was a good five inches taller, scoffed good-naturedly and stepped in front of Lute and Zilya.

            "Gabrielle Lanigan, your costumer, and general artistic director." She smiled at the people in front of her, a reserved, quiet smile. "I would threaten you with bad costumes if you make me angry, but I wouldn't ruin a good costume just because you're a sucky person. I will, however, report you to Zilya."

            "And I will make your life hell," Zilya crossed her arms menacingly. "Believe me." She paused, a transition into a more light-hearted topic. "I trust you all found your dormitories correctly?" A few confused "no's?" rang out around the room and Zilya groaned, fishing in her dancer's bag for a list. "You all need babysitters, frankly. Right, then, Bombays should have Peter Conlon, Percival Edwards, Kenneth Liu, Dexter Myers, and Sven Schuyler. The Persians are Tristan Branxton, David Jacobs, Frances Sullivan - "

            "Hey, hey, it's Jack Kelly," a smug voice called out. Everyone turned to see 'Jack Kelly', in a red cowboy bandana and cowboy hat, leaning arrogantly against the back of his chair. "'S my stage name."

            "I can see you're going to be a problem for me, aren't you, Jack Kelly?" Frances-Jack grinned at Zilya, winking boldly. She raised her eyebrow. "Fine, Jack Kelly, Wendell Taye, and Jorge Vasquez. Lastly, for boys' dorms, the Alley Cats, Louis Ballatt, Anthony Charbonett, Oscar Delancey, Tino Higgins, and Daniel Riccio."

            "Excuse me," interjected a thin, almost skeletal, pale girl with striking black hair. "Did you say Anthony Charbonett? As in the famous teacher?" Zilya nodded with a slight smirk, and a hushed whisper went around the room, the girl who'd originally noticed it mouthing her amazement. Anthony, with untamed brown hair and tan skin, suddenly stood out in the room as everyone looked at him. He smiled at everyone politely.

            "Michelle Charbonett is my mother."

            "So, you've gotta' be insanely good, huh?" blurted out the boy sitting next to Anthony. His large teeth gleamed white as he grinned at the newfound celebrity, towering over him by almost two inches, even sitting. "I took a class with your mom once. I learned so much from her, ballet stuff, you know."

            Zilya coughed and the attention was directed towards her. "Please refrain from making yourselves superstars. A Charbonett is no different from a Riccio who is no different from a Kelly, Gene or Jack. If I may continue?" A communal nod, and Zilya found her place. "The girls' dorms are not completely filled. Siamese will remain empty until the last five girls have been cast. I was disappointed in most of the girls I found, which doesn't make the ones here special. It means you have to work harder to please me. Calico dorm holds Alyson Mayer, Shannon O'Mally, Mia Tortulo, and Margaret Williams. Also, Ms. Lanigan will reside there, as well, just as Lute McDonaghey will stay in the Tabby dorms with Lorenza Matracardi, Bridie O'Keegan, Natalia Sanzio, and Anne Stahl.

            "Welcome to New Broadway."

** * **

            New Broadway. It was a theatre, a company, and a community college all in one. Its performance programs were geared towards college age actors, singers, and dancers. As long as one was performing there, they had a dorm room and access to a cafeteria with chicken patties and wilted leaves in the salad bar. It was as if Broadway had gotten pretty damn hammered and had a one night stand with a summer camp.

            It was home.

** * **

Author's Note: In case you haven't noticed by the end of this chapter, I'm rewriting Cats/Newsies. I'm not entirely happy with these chapter, I think a few bits seem forced, and it's short, since this is more like a prologue than a chapter. BUT. I like it a million times better than I like the original version. Which can be found if you really search for it. Or if you just search for it a bit. Thanks to Erin, beta-best-friend, and to everyone who sent in profiles. And to everyone who is going to send in profiles. Shortie. Cough.