"Jackie boy. I've been hearing things from little birds. Things from Harlem, Queens, all over. They been chirpin' in my ear. Jacky-boy's newsies is playing like they're going on strike."

Chase listened intently as Spot and a Manhattan newsie named David and the famous Jack Kelly discussed "The World"'s newly raised prices. 60 cents per hundred papers was crazy. During the war it was fine but now... Chase knew she could eat 2 days on 10 cents. With these headlines she would starve before the summer was out. And she was one of the best newsies in Brooklyn. She briefly considered selling another paper, other than "The World" or "The Journal", which also raised its prices, but she agreed with Jack and David. Pulitzer and Hearst couldn't push them around; just because they were young and poor, they still had rights.

"We're not playing - we are going on strike." David said.

"Oh yeah? Yeah? What is this, Jackie boy? Some kind of walkin' mouth?" Spot glared at David.

Chase twirled the end of her hair nervously. Spot wasn't as open-minded as she was. David looked intimidated but he and Jack stood their ground.

"Yeah, it's a mouth. But a mouth with a brain, and if you got half a one, you'll listen to what he's got to say." said Jack.

Chase noticed Spot's newsies started surrounding Spot, Jack, David, and Boots; a young Manhattan newsie. She slid deeper into the shadows of the crates and scaffolding, as to not make a scene, and started shooting the boys looks to get them to stand down. David and Jack weren't causing any harm. And they had good ideas. If all the newsies in New York went on strike the newspapers would have to listen.

"Well, we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So, we're talking to newsies all around the city." David said.

"Yeah, so they told me. But what'd they tell you?"

Chase froze. She sensed someone sneaking behind the crates she was leaning against. She looked around but no one else seemed to notice, they were too enthralled in Spot and David's face-off.

"They're waiting to see what Spot Conlon is doing, you're the key. That Spot Conlon is the most respected and famous newsie in all of New York, and probably everywhere else. And if Spot Conlon joins the strike, then they join and we'll be unstoppable. So you gotta join, I mean..well, you gotta!"

Spot stared at David for what seemed like an eternity.

"You're right Jacky-boy, brains." Spot smiled. Chase rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe how quickly his mind changed when it came to flattery. "But I got brains too, and more than just half a one. How do I know you punks won't run the first time some goon comes at ya with a club? How do I know you got what it takes to win?"

"Because I'm telling you, Spot." Jack responded.

"That ain't good enough Jacky-boy. You gotta show me."

Chase took a breath to release her frustration. Spot was so stubborn! There were easily three thousand newsies in Brooklyn who sold "The World" and "The Journal". Even if they weren't all Spot Conlon's newsies they would still listen to him. Spot was intimidating and charismatic. She couldn't help but smile, he was also charming.

As spot turned to climb his "throne" on top of the crates, Chase sprinted after Jack, David, and Boots. Her shoes barely made a sound on the creaky old pier as she ran. It was from all her years of dancing.

"Hey!" she called after them, "Hey, wait!" They turned faster than she could stop. She tripped, not like a graceful dancer at all. Chase probably would have fallen face-first if Jack and David hadn't caught her.

"Whoa," David said, "you ok?" The boys took off their hats and put them to their hearts.

Chase smiled, they were such gentlemen, who better to lead the strike? (If she was a boy Spot would've probably soak her for that). Chase saw something flash in Jack's eyes when he looked at her. Recognition?

"Have we met?" he asked, cocking his head as he tried to remember.

"No, I don't believe so." she answered.

"Your accent." Jack said, "It doesn't really sound like Brooklyn." Chase felt her heart drop a little, remembering her past.

"I was born in New Jersey," she said, trying to control her emotions, "and then I moved to Manhattan," she took a breath, "and then I was brought here."

"You were brought here?" David asked.

"Yes." Chase looked toward the river.

"I'm sorry" he said, understanding.

Jack studied her face sympathetically. They boys were silent, waiting for what she had to say.

"What Pulitzer and Hearst are doing isn't fair. We have voices and we need to be heard." she said, "I know you guys need us. The others are just scared, a lot of them will go hungry tonight. Spot's obstinate but I know he'll join eventually."

"How can you be so sure?" David asked, Chase could sense a little irritation in his words.

"I'll talk to him." She said. The of them just stared at her.

"He'll listen to you?" Jack asked finally.

"Yeah,"

"Are you his sister or something?"

"No," Chase laughed a little. People asked her this question a lot. She and Spot had the same hair color and a similar complexion, but Spot had piercing, icy-blue eyes and Chase's eyes were clear and green like glass.

Jack and David shared a small smile. Chase felt herself blush, she hoped it wasn't too noticeable.

"What's your name?" Jack asked.

"Ro- Chase." She probably should have told him her first name. She trusted Jack but she remembered the sound she heard earlier, not sure who else was listening.

He smiled suspiciously and nodded, he was probably used to secrets. "You got a last name with that?"

"Meyers." She whispered, Jack's eyes widened a little.

"Well," he said after a moment, "I'm Jack Kelly and this is Boots," he pointed to the younger boy, "and this is-"

"David Jacobs." Said David.

"Nice to meet you all," Chase said, "I'll talk to Spot. And if he doesn't listen I'll get as many newsies as I can to go to Manhattan with me. We will beat Pulitzer and Hearst." she said, her eyes sparkled with intensity.

"Welcome to the strike." David extended his hand. Chase spit in hers and shook his. David kept a stiff smile on his face and then wiped his hand on his pants. Jack laughed.

"Goodbye boys." Chase turned. Spot will listen, She thought, he had to.

Spot took a deep breath, trying to calm his anger. It wasn't because of Jack and David, it was because of Pulitzer and Hearst. Since when did they become the Kings of New York? The strike was a good idea but Spot wasn't about to ruin his reputation if they lost.

He climbed up the scaffolding and sat on his throne. He was the King of Brooklyn. Why shouldn't he be the King of New York? Chase would probably say something about his pride but Spot didn't care. Thinking of Chase, Spot wondered where she went. He hadn't seen her since that morning when they found out about the new prices. He sat up straighter and looked around for her.

"Hey Spark," He called down at the girl newsie, who was hiding behind the crates for some odd reason. "Have you seen Chase?"

"Not since this morning." She answered, looking away from Spot's piercing stare.

Everyone was avoiding Spot today, although it was uncommon for Chase to avoid him as well. She wasn't scared of him. Spark shuddered when she remembered what had happened when she told Spot about the strike earlier that day. He was already furious that the guy running circulation demanded $1.20 for his usual 200 papes. Chase had to step in front of Spark earlier, just to make sure Spot wouldn't take a swing at her in his anger. He would never hit a girl but he had such a bad temper that he became a maniac and didn't know what he was doing.

"How was Manhattan?" Story asked Spark. Story was Spark's older sister by about a year. The Masi sisters looked nothing alike, Story had wavy red hair, brown eyes, and italian olive skin and Spark had blue eyes (almost as bright as Spot's), blonde hair, and fair skin. You could only tell they were sisters if you looked closely.

"It was… Pretty much the same as always."

"Aha," Story sat next to Spark on the pier. "I don't believe you. Something's different."

"No—"

"There's a boy, isn't there?"

"There are lots of boys in Manhattan—"

"But there's one specific boy. You're not yourself right now. You're not bubbly like normal and I know it's not from almost getting punched by Spot." Story raised her eyebrow at Spark. They were pretty close. It wasn't like her to keep secrets from Story.

"Ok," Spark said after a moment. "Yes, there is a boy!"

A few of Spot's newsies looked up at this random outburst from Spark. She blushed.

"Who is it? Do we know him? Tell me!"

"He said his name is Mush."

"Mush, Mush. I don't know him. But I trust he's all you've ever wanted in a guy?" Story wanted to make sure her sister was taken care of. She was very protective.

"He is," Spark looked out into the water.

"Then why don't you look happy?"

"Because," Spark started. "I lied to him. I told him I wouldn't go to Brooklyn, he told me it's dangerous—"

"But you live here."

"Well he doesn't know that. I wasn't about to blow my cover. Spot would murder me."

"Not if I have anything to say about it." Someone said. It was Chase. She sat down on Spark's other side. "Is this about boy trouble?"

"Yes,"

Chase sighed and looked up at Spot. "I know how you feel."

Spot jumped down from his perch when he saw Chase and the other girls.

"Where have you been all day?" He asked her, impatiently.

"I've been around," She answered. Chase loved to aggravate Spot. Actually, they took turns annoying each other. Chase usually had the upper hand but Spot never showed weakness. It was playful banter.

Spot turned to the other two girls. "Spark, I need you to go back to Manhattan tomorrow to find out more about Jacky-boy and that strike a' his. And Story, you can go to the Bronx and Long Island, see what they're thinkin'."

"Need me to go anywhere?" Chase asked hopefully. "Queens maybe?"

Spot rarely sent her out to spy for him. Chase detested being called a bird, but she would rather go somewhere and do something instead of lie around Brooklyn all day. Spot would only send her to Queens on occasion, and never alone, because it was close to where she grew up and the newsies liked her there. She knew he would never send her back to Manhattan, it was too dangerous for her to walk those streets by herself. Although, it was just as dangerous for her to walk the streets of Brooklyn but Spot could keep an eye on her there.

"Nah, I got enough from them today. Sorry." He smirked at her, teasing. She just glared at him.