Don't own the Newsies.
I wish I did.
But, I don't.
Inspired at camp, when we passed some stables, to write this.
Hope you like it.
You always loved the races.
You knew why, too.
It was the easiest place to sneak in to, and if you were lucky and the papers were selling right, you could even place some bets. That didn't seem to happen too often, though you always had fun there, anyways. The horses were always great to watch, the screaming people and waving tickets were hypnotic. You could blend in with people near the stands if you wanted to, because you didn't dare go towards where the privileged people were. You knew better, even if you'd cleaned up and put your nose in the air, you'd never be able to blend in. It wasn't you.
Oh, yeah..and you didn't have the connections and the hoighty-toighty talk.
You screamed along with everyone, cheering on your horses,looking at the rest of theNew Yorkers,noting that one looked kind of like David if you sort of turned your head to the side and squinted real hard.Remembering that you owed Pie Eater a penny and Mush licorice if this race didn't go your way. It always seemed to go your way, though, even if before nothing good happened. When it came down to the wire, your gut feeling always won out over the odds. Even if Long Shot always lost before, your bet was like gold, and that's when he pulled through for you. You got a penny richer and a licorice towards becoming full.
You grinned to yourself as you walked back towards the newsboys' quarters, catching up with Jack and telling him about.
It went like that every night, but you never tired of it.
Hey-- you got licorice out of it, after all.
Please, read and review for my first Newsies fic. Ever. :O
Hehe.