18 July 1899
"Y/N!"
I turned around to face Les who was calling me.
"Hey Les, whas goin' on?"
"Davey wants to talk to you."
I froze. "Oh okay."
"Well? Are you gonna talk to him or what?"
I looked at his hopeful face and now felt substantially guilty for disappointing the young child.
"Alright then." With that he wasted no time in dragging me over to his brother.
"Y/N? Les?"
Les promptly ran away
"Your brother said ya wanted ta talk," I started with a blank expression.
"I- I never told him that," he nervously replied.
"Okay see ya then," I said and began walking away from him.
"Wait!" he stopped me, grabbing my wrist, "I do still want to talk," he sighed, "Look, I'm sorry if I came on too strong. I do still have feelings for you but you've moved on and I respect that."
"I'm sorry I can't give ya what ya want."
"You don't have anything to be sorry about, Y/N. It's like you said, some things are just done and that's it."
"N/N, Davey, get a load'a this!" I heard a very distraught voice calling us.
I looked to where a bunch of newsies were crowded and then I saw it.
It felt as though the air had been knocked out of my lungs.
'New newsie price, 60c per hundred'
"I'm gonna throw up," I heard Jack saying under his breath.
He put on a brave face, reasoning this all as a farce as though he was convincing himself too.
He took out fifty and placed it on the counter asking for a hundred papers, a look on his face daring Wiesel to charge him ten more. But alas, "A hundred will cost you sixty."
No no no this can't be happening.
I looked at the Delancey brothers, silently asking them if they knew of this before. Ultimately it makes no difference, what Pulitzer wants he gets. It's his damn world.
They offered me a sympathetic look in consolation and I realised just how real this was. I was completely zoned out of the huddle just lost in trying to grasp what just happened.
It was when I heard everyone yell "Strike!" that I knew something big was beginning.
"You heard the voice of the membership. The Newsies of Lower Manhattan are now officially on strike. What next?"
Wow this is really happening.
Davey did not look all too convinced, understandably so having just begun his working career.
Even I wasn't so sure. What are the odds we do enough to get the big bads of The World to listen to a bunch of nobodies like us?
"Yeah? And who tells Pulitzer? Davey?" Jack was really insistent.
Davey eventually gave in with, "I guess you do, Mr. President."
So that's what we are now, a union. Ready to take on someone like Pulitzer. Despite any doubt, it was apparent that there was a different energy in the air.
Somehow with every odd stacked against us, I believed in us.
So when Davey shouted, "We've got a union!" I was right alongside my fellow newsies cheering on the war.
"Pulitzer and Hearst they think we're nothin', are we nothin'?" Jack called on us.
"No!" we shouted as one.
"They need to understand that we are not enslaved to them, we are free agents!" Davey added.
Something big was indeed beginning. It was felt to the tune of a hundred voices singing that The World will know.
As Jack replaced that message of the price raise with the word 'STRIKE', a statement was made, Pulitzer may own The World but he don't own us.
Off we went, not a pape in hand. This is our revolution.
Strategising began at Jacobi's.
I flinched a little when Crutchie commented, "Did you see the Delanceys? They didn't know which way was up."
How does something like this strike position us as a couple. Only time will tell I suppose.
"Alright and who takes Brooklyn?" Everyone started to look away.
"Me," I volunteered.
"Absolutely not," Jack immediately responded.
"Why not, ya scared 'f Spot Conlon?" I teased.
He just stared at me and I stared back waiting for a response.
"Fine, you goin' ta Brooklyn but I go with ya and so does Davey."
Davey? Literally why Davey?
"Me?" See he gets it.
"Why's everyone so scared of Brooklyn?" Oh would you look at that, the love of Jack's life.
The boys started making some... interesting comments about female reporters but before I could jump to her defence, she was right there seriously holding her own.
I like this girl.
I hang back with Jack, waiting for his fifteen minutes of fame with the reporter to be over so we could go to Brooklyn with Davey for some reason.
It's not that Davey and I are on bad terms, there's just closure I can't give him because that would expose me.
"Katherine Pul...umber." This caught my attention. Looks like I'm not the only one with a secret.
I don't know why but I just really felt the need to address this, like she would in some sense get me. I saw their conversation wrapping up.
"Hey Jack I'm jus' gonna talk ta Kath for a second, you an' Dave can go on for a bit I'll catch up."
He looked at me a bit confused so I signalled with eyes for him to go and he started walking.
"Katherine Pul...umber huh?"
"I- uh it's my byline" she started panicking.
"Nah don't fret, I can read people pretty well, I know ya hidin' somethin' but I can also tell ya ain't against us. What's yer deal though?"
She looked a little relieved, "Yeah I tell anyone my last name and I don't become my own person. Even worse in this revolution, no one will trust me."
"I trust you'll write us a good pape. I mean then no one can doubt which side yer on."
"I'm Pulitzer's daughter," she confessed as though she felt compelled to say it, "and I swear I'm not working with him or anything like that..."
"I'm Morris Delancey's girlfriend." Her eyes widened at my admission. Then she laughed a bit and I joined her.
"Guess we're quite similar, huh? I'm curious though, yours is active decision. Not judging you just, you know."
"There's a story to da Delanceys, a lotta explainin' that won't get through ta none 'f the boys considerin' their experiences with them. If ya look closely, they're cheerin' us on in this strike."
"So we've both got our secrets then."
"Yeah and you's got a little crush on Jackie," I teased.
She jokingly shooed me away, "Aren't you meant to be in Brooklyn right now?"
I laughed as I ran off to Jack, Davey and Les shouting back to her, "Ya didn't deny nothin'! Write it good, Kath!"
"What was all dat about wit' you an' Katherine?" Jack asked.
"Nah jus' girl talk don't worry 'bout it."
He rolled his eyes but he dropped it at that.
"So ya know what we's walkin' into, right?"
"Obviously," I responded casually.
"No!" Davey responded not so casually.
I snorted, "I just don't get all da excitement 'round just another turf. Sure maybe Spot Conlon's a tough guy or somethin' but he's still just a guy."
Jack chuckled, "Alright, N/N, tell 'im that."
"I sure will."
Surely enough we were in Brooklyn. The atmosphere felt different, newsies walking around with their heads held a lot higher than in Manhattan. Confidence clearly deeply engrained in them.
As we approached, I saw his figure sitting on some elevated embankment living up to the 'king' moniker attributed to him.
"Well, if it ain't Jack be nimble, Jack be quick," I heard his smug voice call out.
Someone seriously needs to knock this man down a peg.
I looked at Jack in disbelief and he chuckled a bit before turning back to Conlon.
"I heard ya moved up in the ranks Spot."
"Yeah 'm sure ya did. I heard some things too," he winked at me and I scoffed, "some little boids from all over been talkin' a whole lot," he continued, still looking at me.
Why was that directed at me?
"Yeah they's sayin' Jackie-boy's newsies is playing like they're going on strike," he said, his smirk never leaving his face for a second.
"Yeah, well we are," Jack responded, a strong stare fixated on Spot.
"But we're not playing. We are going on
strike," Davey added, an excitement to his words.
Let's see how the mighty 'King of Brooklyn' takes that.
"Oh yeah? Yeah? What is this, Jackie-boy?
Some kind of walking mouth?"
Of course he'd say something like that.
"Yeah, it's a mouth. A mouth with a brain, and if you got half'a one, you'll listen to what he's got to say," I said, exasperated.
He stared at me for a few seconds in what seemed to be contemplation before turning to Davey and prompting him to continue.
"Well we started the strike but we can't do it alone so we've been talking to other newsies all around the city."
"Yeah, so they told me. But what'd they tell you?"
"They're waiting to see what Spot Conlon does. That you're the key. That Spot Conlon is the most respected and famous newsie in all of New York and probably everywhere else,"
Like he needs his ego stroked any more. Jack and I laughed at this.
"and if Spot Conlon joins the strike then they'll join and we'll be unstoppable! So you gotta join us because... Well, you gotta!"
Sweet, but I just knew Spot wasn't gonna be convinced just like that.
"Well you right Jack, brains. But I got brains too."
He stepped down and started walking towards us.
"And more than just half of one," he continued, encroaching on Davey's personal space.
"How do I know you punks won't run the first time some goon comes at you with a club? How do I know you got what it takes to win?"
"Because I'm telling you, Spot," Jack tried to reason.
"That ain't good enough, Jackie-boy. You gotta show me.
"We got a lot more grit than ya think," I argued
He got into my space next, so close I could feel his breath. I stayed put to show that he didn't scare me.
"Yeah that's real swell comin' from the likes'a you ain't it?" I tried to figure out what he meant by that.
"But I simply ain't puttin' the lives of the Brooklyn newsies in that kinda danger."
He turned to face the others.
"Gimme a moment wit' the goil, I wanna talk ta her 'bout somethin' real quick."
"What? No!" Jack immediately went into protective mode.
Spot let out a breathy laugh, "I guarantee she won't want me sayin' what I gotta say in front'a youse," he replied, facing me again.
"It's fine, Jack. You guys go ahead, I wanna hear what da oh so great Spot Conlon has ta say."
Jack gave me a look to say that he'd be close by before hesitantly walking away with a frightened looking Davey and Les.
"So, how's ya doin', DaSilva?"
"What could ya possibly have to say ta me, Conlon?"
"Well ya know that I got eyes and ears all over New York."
"So you've said. What's that gotta do wit' me?"
"Oh it's no big really," he remarked sarcastically, "just wanted ta make sure ya knew that you's the reason I ain't joinin' ya little strike."
I was taken aback.
"What?"
"I don't know what kinda death trap yer tryna pull 'hattan into but you ain't touchin' Brooklyn."
"What the hell is you talkin' about?"
"I ain't dumb. Whatever this fellowship is ya got wit' dem Delancey bruddas, sneakin around and all dat, I ain't gonna knowingly drag my newsies straight to da refuge. I actually protect my own."
So that's what it is. There's people who know about us outside of our little circle. My heart was rapidly pounding but I maintained a stone-cold exterior.
"Ya know nothin' like whatcha think you know. As fo' protecting my own I went to da refuge for my own, meanwhile there's you, runnin' from da fight that could save dem from starvation."
"Don't talk ta me like I'm just some coward. I have no reason ta believe this is a fight worth joinin'. In fact I got half a mind ta tell Jackie-boy 'bout yer relationship so you should be thankin' me not givin' me lip."
"This proof ya want, ya know damn well that without yer backin' we ain't gettin' no reinforcements. But there we'll be, fightin' for all newsies' rights, including yours. I'll be right there with 'em because I ain't the backstabba ya say I am. The question is, what're you?"
There were a few seconds where no one said anything.
"If it proves to be a fight worth joinin', you'll see me there."
I looked him in the eyes, "I'm holdin' ya to that."
He spat in his hand and held it out. I followed suit and shook his. He clearly still didn't trust me but he knew that there was validity to my words.
As I returned to the others, Jack wasted no time in asking, "What did Spot want wit' you?"
"We don't got Spot tomorrow, ya know dat means we don't got no one else. We still gotta keep everyone in the fight. If it's proof Spot wants, it's proof he'll get."
A/N: Yeet I updated again. Love you guys 💕