So sorry this has taken so long! My musical just ended (it was fantastic). But I'm on break now, so expect many updates! I WILL NOT ABANDON THIS STORY!
Dedicated to Kate Shindle, one of the most amazing voices I've ever heard. You're ranked with Laura Osnes.
Disclaimer: Get over yourselves, I don't own Newsies. I do own Skeeter, the plot, and anything else not in the movie or the novel.
Enjoy!
Spot grumbled to himself as he walked into the shady bar. Though young, he was still feared by the suspicious characters who occupied it.
"Gimme sometink strong, Tom" Spot ordered the aging bar keeper.
The old man scuttled away, giving Spot time to survey his surroundings, it was an old habit.
Tom quickly returned with Spot's order and returned to polishing a glass that was already clean.
Slowly chugging the sour liquid, Spot wondered what had driven him to capture the beautiful, lively girl.
Why did you do it, Spot? What drove you to it?
He had just taken over Brooklyn from Butcher the Bull less than two years ago. Was it because he was eager to prove to the other boroughs that he was strong?
That size didn't matter?
Or was it because he was infatuated by the spirited redhead?
It don't matter! She ran away, she ain't your responsibility!
He tried to console himself with another round of drinks, but a nagging voice kept whispering in the back of his head.
What if she gets hurt? How would you live with yerself? She's yer property now. Keep her, she's yours.
Spot sighed, he would have to find her, or this stupid voice might make a habit of appearing.
He ambled out of the door to find his captive, with his conscience still ringing loudly in his mind.
Keep running, keep running
It had been nearly three hours since Skeeter took off running.
She had tried to run for the Bridge, but before long she had gotten lost. So lost in fact, that she was positive she was in the bad part of Brooklyn. If you didn't count all of Brooklyn as bad that is.
Why didn't you just try and go back to Paul and Emma's? Because you were to busy running to think.
"Hey doll! Where are you goin' late at night! Don't you know baad people are out now?" a drunken man reeled at her but she didn't stop, not now, not ever.
That is, until she ran straight into someone.
"Well, what do we have here? A lost little girl? Or should I say, an escaped newsie? Was I that bad, Skeets?"
Crap, of all the people in this forsaken borough, I run into Spot. Great, this has been the absolute best freaking day of my entire freaking life.
Due to Skeeter's amazing public speaking skills, her flawless grace, and her ability to always have something clever on the tip of her tongue, she replied,
"I-uh-I-I"
He grinned at her, his whitened teeth stretched in a menacing grin,
"Speechless, baby? I missed you too"
Skeeter sighed and ran a hand through her hair,
"Look Conlon, it's not you, it's me. Ok, that's a lie. It is you. You can't get a goil by locking her in your forsaken room, in this forsaken borough, with a forsaken prison guard!"
She was screaming by now, it was just too much. First getting caught, then Race's kiss, then escaping, then getting caught again!
Spot growled something inaudible and grabbed her arm, dragging her back to her prison.
Was it Skeeter's imagination? Or did he sound remorseful?
The moon was high in the sky and illuminated the city, at least from the tiny window in Spot's room it did.
Spot walked in with two mugs and handed it to Skeeter.
She put it on the floor, refusing to drink anything from this boy.
You know, a hunger strike might not be a bad idea!
"Ain't youse goin' to drink it?" he asked, irritated after he had gone to all the trouble of walking downstairs and ordering one of the smaller boys to make some cider for Skeeter and him.
She glared at him, her green eyes filled with unspoken rage.
She was like a bird, one o' those tropic ones, that isn't meant to be caged up.
But she was property now, that wasn't his problem.
"I guess not then. Your welcome by the way"
"Why did you take me?" her eyes were closed, like she was holding back tears.
This shouldn't be too hard to answer, right? Wrong.
Spot walked over to the bed and sat down, taking his time to get comfortable and arrange his thoughts.
Skeeter settled miserably in the corner, wary of Spot's reputation with girls.
"C'mon! I promise I won't touch youse, but if you don't get ovah heah I ain't goin' to tell youse why I took you!"
Skeeter stood up and brushed a strand of bright red hair out of her face. She slowly walked over to the bed and sat as far away from him as possible.
"Why did you take me, Spot?"
"I was fourteen when I took over Brooklyn..."
I'm so evil to keep you hanging! Don't worry, I'll update again tomorrow with why he took her.
Ideas for why he took her still open!
Reviews on what you think would be nice, too.
Sorry about this chapter, I know it is slow, but it's a transition to the real action, also, majority ruled she should try to escape. And she did.