POV You Steal Spot's Cane (Spot Conlon x Reader)

Chapter 4

Today was the day of the rally. We were hosting it in Medda's theater. Newsies from every part of the city were invited, which meant that infortunately, Spot was bound to show up. I was wandering the streets of Manhattan with Race since we didn't have work.

"So is you plannin' on keeping that there stick?" Race asked me, gesturing to the pimp stick.

"Yeah." I said, "unless Spot can steal it back, an' he's tried many times."

"Well he ain't gonna be able to steal it anyways." Race concluded.

We walked past the opening of an alley. Suddenly, a hand clamped over my mouth and I was dragged in and slammed into the hard brick wall. I looked into the face of my attacker.

It was the guy from the alley a couple days ago. He smelled of stale whiskey and a lifetime of regret. (Lol) I saw that Race had climbed onto the roof opposite me and was watching. He knew I could handle this by myself.

"Now you are going to give me what I paid for." He said.

"You paid for a newspaper." I said.

He growled and started choking me with one hand. I knew him in the groin and once he doubled over I kicked him in the face. I stepped over his body and climbed up to the roof where Race was.

"What is he talkin' about 'What he paid for'?" Race asked.

"Don't worry yourself." I said. "We should go get ready for the rally."

______________________________________

The sun had set and it was time for the rally. Race and I left the lodging house and were walking down the dark street to the Irving theater. I didn't put makeup on the hickey because my hair would cover it up anyways. We arrived at the theater and as we walked in the doors the sound of hundreds of voices grew louder. I mase eye contact wuth Jack who gestured to Spot and raised his eyebrows. Jack was standing on the stage next to Spot who...

oh my gosh.

Overnight the hickeys I had given him had turned a deep reddish purple and were quite noticeable. I almost felt bad for him. We made eye contact and I raised my eyebrows.

Race and I made our way up to the stage. I sat down on a chair behind Jack. Race sat on my lap.

I may have forgotten to mention that Fox and Race are best friends.

"Carryin' the banner!!!" Jack yelled. Everyone started cheering. Once things had quieted down I wrapped my arms around Race and rested my chin on his shoulder.

"So we've come a long way, and we ain't there yet and maybe it's only gonna get tougher from now on!" Jack yelled to the crowd of newsies. "But that's fine we'll just get tougher with it! But also we gotta get smart and start listenin' to my pal David."

Everyone cheered again.

"...who says stop soakin' the scabs!" He continued.

"What are supposed ta do ta the bums?" Race asked from his place on my lap. "Kiss em'?"

Spot and I made eye contact again. He gave me a look I couldn't quite interpret.

"Ay look." Spot protested. "Any scab I see, I soak em'. Period."

"No! No! No!" Davey yelled. "That's what they want us to do! If we get violent that's just playing onto their hands!"

"Ay look." Spot yelled, "they're gonna be playin' with my hands, alright? It ain't what they say, it's what we say! And nobody gonna listen unless we make em'!"