Disclaimer- I don't own Newsies or any of the songs I use in this fic.
A/n: this is Wouldn't it be Nice by the Beach Boys. It's on my TIME CD and almost everything on it is good.
Chapter 4- Wouldn't it be Nice?
Across the bridge things were run differently than in Manhattan. This, Racetrack had figured out long ago, or at least with enough time to discover how things worked in Manhattan.
"Who're you, kid?" Jack had asked him on the first day.
"Watch who you call 'kid'. The name's Racetrack. I'm from Brooklyn, so I know this gig better than any of you jokers."
Immediately Jack had changed. "From the guide of Spot Conlon?" he asked, eyeing Racetrack with mistrust.
"Yeah, but Spot's nothing special. Just a blowhard." And after that no one even thought about crossing Racetrack Higgins. You had to be pretty badass to insult Spot so openly and blatantly without worrying about he'd do when he found out.
"I left that dump. Manhattan is much...nicer. More sellin' opportunities" he said.
Wouldn't it be nice if we were older
Then we wouldn't have to wait so long
And wouldn't it be nice to live together
In the kind of world where we belong
Every night Racetrack slept in the bed he beat up Snitch to get, forcing Snitch to sleep in Itey's bunk. Never being a morning person it was no wonder how he still was puzzled as to the whereabouts of his cigar every morning, after Snipeshooter stole it.
"Give the damn thing back," he'd snarled the first night.
"You're the new kid, I'm in control for once," snickered Snipeshooter, holding the cigar in his teeth.
In seconds Racetrack was on top of Snipeshooter, pounding at him with his fists and cursing loudly.
"Get the hell off him!" Jack prised Racetrack off and pulled the cigar from Snipeshooter's mouth. "Just get along. I don't want my newsies to be the ones who are uneducated idiots. We're a team. Like a family. I don't want to see anymoiah of this crap."
You know its gonna make it that much better
When we can say goodnight and stay together
"What was the big idea?" asked a girl as Racetrack stumbled into the bathroom. "You've got Jack pissed and now he's gonna to be in a bad mood all day."
"Don' give me lectures. Youse just a stupid goil and I'm sure you think youah better than me anyways."
"I never said that, not that it isn' true and all," she pulled her nutmeg hair into a ponytail. "Just don' piss 'im off so much. He's easy to anger. Oh, and stop stealing Snitch's bed. I can't stand being on a bunk above them, they complain all night."
Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up
In the morning when the day is new
And after having spent the day together
Hold each other close the whole night through
"What's her problem?" asked Racetrack, sitting beside a well-built newsie and lighting up his rightly won cigar.
"Who, Mornin' Face? Nothin'. She's usually nice. And I'm Mush, by the way."
"Nice ain't the way to describe 'at girl. She's…Brooklyn doesn' have any goil newsies, y'know?"
"We've got a few here. That's Music," he pointed out a tall blonde girl next to a kid with a crutch, "and that's Coin," he blushed as he waved to her. She walked over and kissed him on the cheek.
"Who's youah friend Mush?" She eyed Racetrack carefully.
Happy times together we've been spending
I wish that every kiss was never-ending
Wouldn't it be nice
In Manhattan everything was different from Brooklyn. There were girls selling papers, fights with the distribution managers and co-ed lodging houses, even though the signs read 'Boys Lodging House'.
"What's up wit the broads?" asked Racetrack.
"Dat's nuttin new over here. Coin and I are in love," Mush told Racetrack proudly, "I'm gonna marry her someday. When we get off the streets."
Racetrack laughed and shook his head. None of this was right.
Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray it might come true
Baby then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do
We could be married
And then we'd be happy
Wouldn't it be nice
"I wanna talk wit you," Racetrack approached Morning Face at the end of the day.
"I only talk ovah cards," she said, waving away a cloud of smoke.
"Then let's play. About the bunk thing, I ain't switching…"
You know it seems the more we talk about it
It only makes it worse to live without it
But lets talk about it
Wouldn't it be nice
After that day Racetrack Higgins didn't discuss the peculiarity of Manhattan. He also didn't give Snitch back his bed.
"You're in Manhattan now, act like it. We sell by day, gamble by night and goils half the time are better newsies than boys." Jack fixed him with a gaze and shook his head. "You really knew Spot?"
(End Chapter)
((So far that chapter didn't relate much, but it will, trust me. It's all in the making. Don't forget to review. The CC is still open, if you ant to send in another character.))
Shoutouts:
Padfootismyhero- yay! A charrie! I know I made you dislike Race right now, but you're grumpy from being kept up all night.
Jacky Higgins- you like Crutchy? He's soo cute!!! Is the Hanson CD even out yet? Iunno, I'm gonna go check again.
Coin- oh, so you're one of THOSE…the threateners…I don't know any of them…wait, yes I do! Me! That's all really, and thanks for the character!
Erin Go Bragh- thank Padfootismyhero, it was her song choice.
Oh, plus, I liked Jacky Higgins' thing. If you could, send me you character's background and history, just in case I need it later.