The Super Long Author's Note: This story isn't a "Newsies story" in the conventional sense. It takes place on the set, and will involve most of the actors involved, centering around Ivan Dudynsky (Dutchy) and Mark David (Specs).

I have given into The Great Mistresses of Newsies Slash and decided that this story will indeed turn out to be slash. I hope you all are happy now. And I am sorry if slash offends you.

I don't own anybody, and I don't mean to offend the actors. It's just fiction. If you happen to *be* Ivan Dudynsky or Mark David, I would happily take down this story, but what's the chances of that happening? Also, I don't claim to know everything about Mark and Ivan's life. I'm sure there are a lot of things different in this fic that doesn't fit true to their life story. That is why it is Fiction. Say it with me everybody, F-I-C-T-I-O-N. So don't flame me telling me "That's wrong, and that's wrong." I'll just make fun of you to my friends. :oD

And the title isn't mine either. It's the name of a song Mark David sang on an episode of the show Roundhouse.

There is a bit of bad language in this chapter. I in no way approve of it, but it is necessary to get my point across.

Okay, enough talk, on with the show!!

Title: Let Me Be Your Friend

Author: Neffie

Chapter 1: The Wrong Steps

"Stop, Stop, STOP!" Kenny's voice was deafening, echoing inside the sound stage that was serving as a dance studio for the cast of "Newsies." He pulled off his cap and brushed a few stray wisps of hair from his eyes. The summer heat was wearing down on everyone's nerves that afternoon. Tempers were short and more than one fuse had been lit already. "How many times do we have to do this? I don't mean to come down so hard on you guys, but this is ridiculous! It's jump, spin, step, turn, step, kick! Now let's try it again! Five, six, seven, eight!" The drum counted a steady tempo as the boys sweated through the routine once again. It went well for a total of 30 seconds, until one of the boys fell to the ground after the spin.

"You alright, buddy?" A young man with blond hair hanging into his eyes rushed over to his fallen friend. Ivan held out his hand to help the boy to his feet.

"I'm fine. Just tripped over my own feet," Mark David grumbled, ignoring the offered hand and pulling himself up from the ground awkwardly. Ivan looked at his best friend. He noticed that his chocolate brown eyes seemed a bit unfocused and he seemed to be shaking a bit. He must be tired, Ivan told himself and looked up as Kenny came over.

"What's the problem Mark? You okay?" Despite the stress of the long day of filming, the director still put the well being of the boys above everything. The tall youth suddenly found the ground very interesting. "Yeah," Mark mumbled. "I'll do better next time." Kenny let out a long sigh. "Actually I think we all need to take a break. Everybody! Take five!" The sound stage erupted in the voices of young boys, grateful for a break. Laughter could be heard ringing throughout the entire room.

Ivan threw his arm around Mark's slender shoulders and started to steer him towards the snack table. "So," he started biting into a cookie "Youf wanna go fwor fom pizza an' pool wid ush affta?" his speech was almost unintelligible. He offered a cookie to Mark who wrinkled his nose and stepped away as if it were the most disgusting thing he had ever seen in his life.

"No. I think I'll just head back to the apartment. I'm… pretty tired." He squeezed his eyes shut against a wave of dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him.

Bright blue eyes peered curiously at Mark as his complexion went a shade paler. "Mark, are you sure you're alright?"

Just then someone with a bullhorn summoned them back to position. "Yeah," the tall brunette said, working hard to keep his voice steady. "I'm fine."

Whatever you say buddy, Ivan thought to himself skeptically as he hurried over to the rest of the group to continue working.

That night Mark David sat looking out his window at the city streets below, chewing slowly on a piece of ice.

He knew that he was dying inside, slower and slower day by day, but he just didn't have the strength to care anymore. The truth was that he hadn't cared in quite sometime.

He remembered feeling like this before, in high school. Even then he had been a loner. Before he met Ivan, he hadn't had a single friend in the world. That's not to say that he was unknown though. In fact he was payed a lot of attention. Like being slammed into the lockers between class changes. Words like "Faggot. Queer. Cocksucker," permantly burned into his soul like a brand.

He would have bruises that seemed to take weeks to fade. His parents never looked twice at them or asked where he got them. He always thought that his parents felt the same way, but just didn't care enough to do anything about it.

It might have been better if they had, because at least then he would have known that they knew he was alive.

His life had been out of control then, and it was quickly spiraling towards that again. But he knew that there was one thing he could keep control of.

Because he didn't have to eat or drink anything he didn't want to. And if he wanted to eat something so much that he thought about it all day long and maybe even dreamed about it at night, he didn't have to give in and eat it. Because he was in control and even though everything else in his life was chaos, this little piece of his life was completely his.

A small and humorless smile spread across his face as he ran his hands across his ribcage, where he could feel each contour of the bones. He loved this, it brought a meaning to his life.

Then why does it make you feel so dead inside? Why does it make you feel like you are breaking in half everytime Ivan asks you if you are okay?

Mark shook away those thoughts and placed another piece of ice in his mouth, savoring it slowly in attempts to silence the growling of his stomach.