TW: REFERENCES BACK TO RACE'S SU1C1D3 ATTEMPT
also enjoy the fluff, we don't get a lot of that 'round here
It'd been a couple weeks since the less than honorable de-throning of Spot Conlon, and as I suspected, his absence from Brooklyn had only made matters worse. Hotshot's command wasn't much of anything, just permission for the boys to run recklessly through the streets of New York. At this point, it may have been considered an overstatement to call it war, just lawlessly raucous and messy brawls on every block corner and alley way. The streets were running red, and as for the press, it might as well have been Christmas for them. More than once I had seen the headlines plastered with the news of the "dangerous savages roaming our beloved streets", and with each name and photograph I recognized, I was filled with a new kind of righteous anger.
It was getting progressively harder to sell. Which, in a way, made sense, as the dangerous low lives the papers warned against were the very boys hawking them. Anyone in their right mind would do well to steer clear. So, the ones that ate the best were the corner stores and the lucky few with trusted regulars. Jack had gotten even stricter on the shared funds of the lodging house, and in true Jack fashion, was even giving up what little he could afford to eat to feed the kids, growing thinner by the day. Davey was coming around less frequently too, and Les had stopped all together. He was kept home by his mother, who, as the rest of the city, caught wind that things were getting treacherous and was set on keeping her boy safe. We'd seen him once since his lock up, only when he'd snuck away rebelliously, determined to be a part of whatever was outside the sheltered bubble his folks wanted him stashed in. He only stayed away when Jack made him swear he'd go home and listen to his parents, and when he saw the damage laid upon his fellow newsboys. Sarah, like Davey, had also been seen around less, and rumors of the potential strain the war had taken upon her, and Jack's relationship were quick to float about. This, and the steady flow of injured brothers were the rumored blame of our leader's increasing irritability and restlessness. However, if you asked me, it was more so the latter. The latter, and the fact that Davey hadn't been by in almost a week. The others didn't realize it, and to be honest, Jack probably didn't either, but Davey was his rock. The only one who could ground him, calm him amongst all the chaos that had ensued since this whole mess began.
Selfishly, I was sort of glad of Spot's removal from power. It had nearly driven me insane not knowing if he was okay, three hours away in Brooklyn. At least with him here, I could keep an eye on him. Unlike Mush and Blink, we understood the danger we'd be in if seen selling together. After all, this whole thing was, in a manner of speaking, our fault. We were targets enough as it was. I wasn't allowed to sell often. I could usually be found inside tending to the injured, kept company by Crutchie, tasked with taking care of the kids. This ugly Thursday however, I was allowed out to work.
It truly was a hideous day. The clouds were dark and heavy, threatening to spill at any minute. Low rumbling from the sky issued an alarm out to any of the few people still wandering the street; get inside or get caught in what was sure to be a harrowing storm.
"Hey, ya think we should start headin' back?" Boots squinted up at the sky, as if trying to make sense of a particularly unique piece of art. "That thing's 'bouta leak more than Skittery when the maya's daughta walks by."
"Yeah," I agreed, "'bout time to head out. Ain't nobody in they'ah right mind would be out in this. Aye, speakin' of leaks, you go ahead. I'mma just take a piss real quick." I gestured to a nearby bush and Boots nodded, turning on his heel in the direction of the lodging house. I scurried over to the bush and looked around, making sure there was no one watching. Who was I kidding? The street was practically empty. I did my business quickly. I didn't want to be caught alone out here. When I finished, I made my way down the sidewalk in the direction of home. I was walking past the entrance to an alley - one I had ducked into many a time in my life for various reasons - and heard voices. Startled, I jumped back behind the wall and peeked around the corner. One was one of Spot's old boys, though I had never bothered to figure out his name. The other I didn't recognize. That's not true. He did look oddly familiar, in a sort of nostalgic way that I couldn't quite pinpoint. He definitely wasn't Brooklyn, that much was certain. Maybe Harlem? Or the Bronx. It unsettled me just how familiar this boy looked without me being able to remember. He was handsome, strikingly so. With messy dark hair and a pointy nose. Though, he did have a nasty shiner on his right eye. He could only have been older than me by just a few years. The two were speaking in hushed whispers, just loud enough for me to make out what they were saying.
"I don' get it. Why would he 'ave done it, then?" the familiar one was saying.
"Who knows? Repression? Pe'ah pressure? He's always been complicated," the Brooklyner replied.
"It's sick, absolutely vile, an' all this time he's jus' been secretly gay?"
I bit my tongue. I knew who they were talking about, but I wasn't in the mood to start a fight right then.
"Look, ya don't owe that bastard forgiveness, man. Who knows what kinda shit the guy's got goin' up in that 'lil pea brain 'o his."
The familiar one sighed. "I hate 'im, Myron. I really fuckin' hate 'im." he choked on a sob and the one who I guess was Myron wraped his arms around him, calming him.
"I know sweethe'at, I know." Myron stroked familiar boy's hair.
I cocked an eyebrow in confusion. Sweetheart? Were they not just being homophobic? What's going on? Why were they pissed at Spot for being gay if they were themselves? In my confusion, I accidentally kicked over a crate. The noise sent the boys jumping back from each other.
"Who's the'ah?" Myron called out. He stood defensively, one hand toying with a blue bandana around his neck. Ain't no way was I about to get caught eavesdropping on their conversation, not to mention alone. I turned around, and bolted from the alley, taking the long way home.
By the time I had made it to number 9 Duane Street, it was already pouring down rain. I stumbled into the bunk room, dripping water, and tore my wet shirt off, crashing into bed.
"What the hell, Race?"
Dammit. Jack came stomping over. I groaned, turning over face down and pulling my pillow over my head. Apparently all 'no bullshit', Jack stole the pillow out of my grip and slammed it down on me as hard as he could. I turned over reluctantly. "Whatta you want, dad?"
Jack scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Whe'ah the fuck was you'se?"
"Did Boots not tell ya? We were sellin' tagetha an' I had to take a piss on the way back. I told 'im notta wait."
"Goddamnit, Racetrack Higgins! We're fightin' a whole ass war he'ah and you can't keep ya head togetha. What made ya think you could just walk on back he'ah alone and not get inta any trouble?"
"I'se didn't, though."
This didn't seem to please Jack, who picked the pillow back up and hit me again. "You'se," he pointed a finger accusingly towards me. "You'se a be the death a me. I try to give all'a you'se a few goddamn rules and ya can't jus' fathom followin' the-"
"Jack?"
The two of us turn to face the door. Davey stood there, soaked from head to toe and dripping into the puddle I had made there just a few minutes before. Jack's eyes grew wide, and I could sense a flash of relief, then the anger. He flared his nostrils and stomped over to him. "David! Goddamnit whe'ya been? Racer he'ah's-" and with that I tuned his voice out as he dragged Davey to the otherside of the room.
I closed my eyes, eyelids heavy, and yawned. It'd been a long day, a long week, a long goddamn time since I could just have a break from all the bullshit. I felt another body, warmer than mine, crawl under the sheets and into bed with me. I pried my eyes open, turning to see who'd disrupted my need for relaxation. I gave Spot a small smile as he wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled his face into my shoulder. "Hey the'ah."
"Hi," he said into my skin.
"How ya doin?"
He made a noise, muffled by my arm and the thin blanket. I chuckled.
"Yeah, me too." I wrapped my arm around him and played with the hair on the back of his head. I just laid there for a while, watching him snuggle up next to me. His hair was very soft. Almost criminally soft for a kid from the streets. Suddenly, an unwanted thought intruded my head. "Hey, Spot?"
He made an inquisitive noise, once more muffled by my body and the blanket. I opened my mouth. Then closed it again, trying to find the right way to phrase the question.
"Are ya sure ya want this?" I took a deep breath. He turned his head up to face me, and suddenly I wish I hadn't asked, but it was too late to un-ask it.
"What do ya mean?" he asked. I took another deep breath.
"Are ya sure ya want this? I just mean, wouldn't it be so much easi'ah to just pretend you'se straight? Y'know, take back ya throne and all that? Ya boys need you'se, why are ya wastin' ya time with me?"
He thought about it for a minute, trying to make sure he phrases what comes next correctly. "Because I wanna," he settled on.
"But why?"
"Racer,' he pauses. "I ain't had a lotta good in my life. Hell, my fam'ly died in a fi'ah me pops set that also reduced our house to a pile 'o ash. I'se been beaten, bruised, nea'ly killed, I barely make'a 'nough money to live. But you'se? You Racetrack are good, an' I could use a 'lil more 'o that in my godforsaken life."
"But-" He slammed his hand over my mouth, prohibiting me from speaking.
"No buts. It's you or nothin', Racer. An' I'se sure as hell rather it'd be you'se."
I smile underneath his palm, and Spot smiles back, promptly replacing his hand with a kiss. We laid back, staring up at the bottom of the bunk above us. "In me, albeit, limited experience," Spot starts, "love's supposed ta be a 'lil dangerous, a 'lil reckless. It's supposed ta feel like ya heart's gonna explode with happiness sometimes. But sometimes it's supposed ta hurt. The'ah's supposed ta be pain, an' hea'tbreak, an you are worth every te'ah that's gonna run down my cheeks, okay?"
I choked back a laugh, or a cry. I didn't really know which. But I swallowed and nodded yes and Spot planted a kiss on my cheek, then another, and another until we both eventually drifted off to sleep.
When I woke up again, it was dark. Whether it was very late or very early, I couldn't tell, but the room was filled with the sounds of snoring boys and crickets outside the window. I yawned, but I was hit with a sudden pang of awakeness in my body, and I couldn't settle down enough to go back to bed. Careful not to wake up Spot, I crawled out of the bunk and tiptoed to the window. I looked around, carefully lifting it, aware of the creak it would make at halfway open. When the space was big enough, I swung my leg through and climbed out onto the fire escape. As I went up, I remained cautious, careful not to wake the building's residents.
From the roof of the lodging house, there's little to see in the night sky. Despite the people snug in their beds, the city was still alight, like a fire devastating the windows of the tallest buildings. Even so, there were stars speckled here and there, and the building windows were like stars themselves as they went further back into the horizon. The last I'd been up there was that one dreaded sunset in the middle of the strike. The one where I'd- I'd-
I think it was for that reason I avoided it nowadays, afraid I'd be tempted to try again. Even now, as I let my legs dangled from the edge of the building, I felt the urge to fix my mistakes and give it another go. I didn't know what exactly made me hesitate now. As strong as the urge to jump was, an even stronger one kept me rooted in place. I tried to divert my thoughts, tried to keep them from getting too dark again, before I'd change my mind and let go, so I laid back and gazed at the sky. Faintly, I could just make out the dots that connected together to make the little dipper. I could see Orion's belt, though I never could tell which stars made up the rest of him. There was Aries, or was it that one? I only knew that here in April the ram had its place in the sky and commanded it proudly. In a way, it reminded me of Spot. Before I messed everything up, of course. I continued to look at the sky, each star a pinprick in its own right, each with a place and a purpose; to guide, to calm, to watch. I viewed them in peaceful solitude. Content that there was no one else who knew where I was or what I was doing.
"Polaris is rather bright tonight, innit?"
I jumped, startled by the sudden break in silence, and relaxed when I realized who it was. "Jesus Christ, Spot!"
He gave a little smile and apologized, sitting down next to me. He pointed up at the sky. "That one, right the'ah. Do ya see it? That one's Polaris."
I squinted at where he was pointing, at the end of the little dipper. "I thought that was the north star?"
He shrugged. "It's the same thing. Y'know, sail'as use it to navigate on the ocean?"
I nodded in agreement, but remained silent for him to keep speaking.
"And that one's Aries," he continued, pointing at a completely different cluster of stars than what I'd thought it was earlier. I cocked an eyebrow.
"Since when'd ya know so much about sta's?" I asked.
"Shockingly, I read from time to time."
"Spot Conlon, you baffle me."
"I do occasionally have that effect on people."
I bit my lip to keep from grinning too wide. I wondered what other secret knowledge he had kept locked away.
"Me muddah taught me," he said, breaking the momentary silence. "She used to lay me bruddahs an' me down in the yard an' point to each 'o 'em an' tell us what they were. Told us each of our zodiacs too. I'mma Taurus."
"Zodiacs?" I asked, confused.
"The position 'o the sun an' constellations when you were born," he explained.
"What's mine?"
"When's ya birthday?"
"June sixth."
Spot stopped to think for a moment. Mumbling what I was sure were made up words. "Gemini, I think. You'se a Gemini."
"An' what does that say about me?"
"Honestly? I don' really know."
I laughed, and he followed suit. Suddenly, he was tickling me, and I rolled around in laughter, trying to swat him away. "Stop! Stop it ya ratbag, get the hell offa me."
"Only if ya insist," he said playfully.
"Yes! Jesus- stop!"
He stopped and instead grabbed my wrists. He rolled on top of me, pinning me down to the building roof, shaggy, dirty blonde hair hanging down over me. "Okay," he smirked. Bending down to kiss the tip of my nose. "You'se okay? Ya turnin' a 'lil red there Racer."
I blushed more, turning my head trying to hide as much. "Shuddup."
He laughed. A loud, adorable kind of laugh that I was sure had me blushing even worse. I kneed him in the hip, sending him toppling over with a groan.
"Aye, what was that fo'ah?"
I stood up, brushing the dirt off me. "You'se fine," I said, offering him a hand up. "C'mon, I wanna show ya somethin'."
He took my hand, and I pulled him up, dragging him back down the fire escape, both of us careful not to wake up the others.
A/N: what is this? oh my gods is this what I think it is? an update? absolutely shocking. naturally, it took me a sleepless night at the end of summer vacation to finally get me writing. did I write almost all of this in one night? yes, yes, I did, and despite that I'd like to think this is way better writing than it used to be in the past 22 chapters before this. that's what we like to call improvement since a year and a half, maybe two years ago. though, do bear with me because I'm so incredibly tired so it may also suck. so happy back to school, folks. I'll probably use this in a two truths and a lie ice breaker yet again, maybe I'll grow up and not. honestly, hopefully the latter. I'm not even gonna lie to y'all, I've had the ending planned out (roughly) for at least a year, I just need to get it written. maybe at some point I'll re write this whole thing for the sake of better writing, character development, etc, etc. cause there's a whole lotta out of pocket shit in this. I'm glad y'all are enjoying it well enough to be begging me for updates. I don't understand why you'd want them atp, but I'm grateful, nonetheless. Hope y'all are having a great day/night and happy back to school season.