Newsies Preference 🗞| @ThatNewsieGoilAshley

Convinced Me|Newsies

Jack beamed when he saw her round the corner, slipping down the ladder to greet her. "Heya, (Y/N/N)," he called, tipping his hat to her. "How's Brooklyn?" (Y/N) bit back a smile, replying, "Good enough, Kelly. What do you want?" The newsie smirked, saying, "Still gots the fancy Pennsylvania accent, huh?" She rolled her eyes. "What do you want, Jack?"
He raised his hands in surrender. "I just wants to talk." (Y/N) crossed her arms and said, "Make it quick. I have an appointment." "It's about the strike," Jack said. "Brooklyn's with us, right?" She sighed, biting her lip slightly. "I don't make that choice, Kelly. Spot's in charge, not me." "Yeah, but he listens to ya, (Y/N)," he said. "If Spot'd tell anyone, it's you."
(Y/N) ran a hand through her hair, saying, "He's not sure about this strike of yours. Spot doesn't know if he can trust the Manhattan newsies to show up and fight." Jack looked slightly offended. "Course we's gonna fight! Manhattan's no wimp."
She laughed at his dismayed face. "You've convinced me, Kelly," (Y/N) said. "Spot Conlon, on the other hand, is not an easy man to convince, but I'll try. No promises, though." Jack beamed, spitting on his hand and holding it out for her to shake. Smiling, (Y/N) did the same, shaking his hand firmly before leaving to go back to Brooklyn.
"Wait!" Jack called, running after her. "Here." He held out a newspaper with one of his drawings on it for her to take. (Y/N) couldn't help but smile at the sight of the Brooklyn Bridge, and took the paper from his hand. "Thanks, Kelly." Jack smiled. "Anytime, (Y/L/N)."
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Jack's eyes scanned through the crowd at the newsies rally, praying that she hadn't come. But there (Y/N) was, her face dark as she stood on Medda's stage beside Spot. The King of Brooklyn stormed out, but she stayed behind for a moment.
The theater was mainly empty now, and she walked up to him. Jack started to speak, but (Y/N) shook her head. "Nicely done, Kelly," she muttered, betrayal in her voice. "You did it. You convinced me, you double-crossing bastard. You convinced me."
(Y/N) smiled bitterly, shoving an old newspaper at his chest. Spot came back into the theater, glaring at Jack as he said, "You's coming, (Y/N)?" She nodded, frowning at Jack one last time, before leaving with Spot.
Jack opened the paper, not really sure what to expect. His drawing of the Brooklyn Bridge stared back at him, smudged with dirt but still visible. The newsie clenched his jaw, pausing before making his decision. He gripped the paper tighter in his fist, before racing out of the theater after (Y/N) and Spot.
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Spot saw Jack coming first, turning around and balling his fists. "You made your point clear, Kelly," he growled. Jack stopped and said desperately, "I wants to talk to (Y/N), that's it." "Well, she don't want to talk to ya."
"It's okay, Spot. Let's hear what he's got to say," (Y/N) interceded, coming to stand by the Brooklyn newsie. "Well, Kelly?" she asked. "What do you want?" Jack shuffled his feet for a moment, before holding out the drawing of the Brooklyn Bridge and saying, "Keep it. And I knows you're mad, but I'm sorry. Pulitzer threatened Crutchie, I didn't have no choice."
(Y/N) studied him for a second, before nodding and taking the drawing. "Go talk to your reporter girl, Kelly," she said. "You've convinced me." Jack smiled slightly, and, tipping his hat to her and Spot, he raced back to Manhattan.
Spot turned to (Y/N), saying, "You's too nice." (Y/N) nodded, and said with a smile, "I know, Spot. Believe me, I know." He shook his head fondly. "Such a softy, (Y/L/N)." She smirked, and the two walked back to Brooklyn.