I don't expect anyone to read this, this is just a one shot for Newsies I wrote to help improve my writing. But if you like it, thanks I guess. :)
"Sorry."
Race knew this like the back of his hand. Literally, it was on the back of his hand. It was the most simple word. He says it to everyone, everyone says it to him. It's such a general term, how could he find them. How could he find his soulmate when almost anyone he bumps into repeats it to him. He just hoped that Race would make some snarky remark to his soulmate that could set him aside from the rest.
Race had always been a artist. He would much rather get inspiration for a new doodle by staring out a window rather than listening to the teacher. He would draw characters form his favorite shows, the plants and animals that thrived out the window, and he'd practice his realistic skills, sketching other students that sat around him. He wasn't a creep, he was just desperate for a model.
It was fifth hour, comm arts class. Race had an A+ for a grade and got atleast a 90 on every assignment. Come arts was easy to him, he already knew half the stuff she was teaching, why would he need to pay attention? Races face was buried in his binder, more specifically the binder paper, eyeing each detail of his drawing. He smiled as he looked at his final product. A drawing of his family dog, his head tilted, his tongue out, and that friendly twinkle in his eye.
Teacher - Mr. Higgins, do you know the answer?
Races head shot up like a bullet. All eyes were on him. He took a quick glance at the board. They were learning about punctuation. Since 1,2, and 3 were already filled out. He guessed the next question was number 4.
Race - Question mark.
Teacher - I'm afraid that's not the question to number 5.
Number five. Bullshit. She just wanted to call him out. He rolled his eyes, knowing she wouldn't call on him again. She could be annoying at times, but she was a kind and understanding teacher, he knew she wouldn't humiliate him twice in the same class period. Race gazed around the room, searching for a fresh face to add to his sketchbook. All faces seemed so familiar, half of them already had their places.
Teacher - Thank you Mr. Conlon.
Races gazed shifted to the boy who had had the classes attention a few seconds ago, well, almost all. But he sure had Races attention now. Race didn't know Spot, he knew his name, he know he existed, he knew he was quite popular. A stereotype that would never mix with the loner Race was. Spot had quite short brown hair, big brown eyes. His face held a vision of freckles and it seemed every day he would have a black eye or some new or old bruise on his body. He always wore the same shirt and always kept a beanie, hiding the rest of his hair. Race thought they didn't allow hats in school. But, maybe everyone, not just Race, is just too scared to face Spot Conlon.
News is he doesn't even have a soulmate, or, atleast no ones ever seen his mark
—-
Davey - It slipped right out of his hand and right onto the pavement.
Jack - Kiddin me? Why do I neva get dat lucky!
Davey - Jackie, it happened like 6 years ago, and I had a major headache and sugar high for days!
Jack - Ye, and I haves you. I'm da luckiest man alive!
Race joined his friends at their usual table. A pile of what their school called 'lunch' sitting on his plate. Jack and Daveys eyes flew to him as soon as he sat. Jack and Davey were his only friends at this school. All three had met in gym class while they were in their swimming unit. The three had been placed on opposite teams but were all placed to go against each other along with a few other kids. Davey had been to shy to go up to the teacher and confess that he had never swam before. He defended himself by saying that he felt he would be embarrassed. Davey had gone through with it, and it had only been a few seconds in the water before Jack and Race on opposite sides of Daveys lane heard his screams and rescued the boy. As the three had headed for the locker room that day, Race had heard a small conversation from the other room, followed by complete silence. As Race had entered the room again, he saw both boys sitting next to each other, not able to take their eyes off the others arm. The two were soulmates.The three of them were pretty young, but this was about the age that people started finding their soulmate. Race still had no hope of finding his, with such a simple word. But Jack and Davey kept hope alive in him that that special someone was there for him.
Jack - Where were you?
Race - Art room.
Jack - Oh, someone doodlin again?
Race - Psh, least I don't doodle as much as you. I've seen ya planna, it's filled wit David, Davey, Dave!
Jack - ...
Davey - But you've had 5 classes before this.
Race - Yeah...
Jack - Hand it over bucko.
Race rolled his eyes ,but smiled at his friends. They showered him in compliments every day. Telling him that one day his work would surely been hanging in a museum. Race could beg to differ. He wanted to pursue in art, but he knew he would never be that good,the best he could get was an animator. And that was perfectly fine with him. He slid his binder across the table to his eager buddy's.
Daveys eyes skimmed the paper. Each drawing was so lifelike, incredible. He recognized some places, like the garden outside the history room. He recognized the smiling face of Races happy dog. He recognized many of the people, each with their own expressions, drawn on the paper. He had seen them all drawn before. Crutchie, Finch, Romeo, Skittery, but the one person that stood out was Spot. It was obviously Spot, couldn't be anyone else. His floppy hair was tucked together with his bright beanie, his eyes looking down at whatever worksheet sat in front of him. It was beautiful, as far as Spot Conlon could go, but Race seemed to ave a talent that he could make anything beautiful.
Jack - Spot Conlon. He's a new one.
Race - Yeah, in my comm arts class.
Jack - Mphm. Looks good, fa once in his life, am I right.
Davey - That you are.
—-
Spot could feel Races eyes burning into his skull. He knew the boy was looking at him. He would glance down at his binder time to time, then back up at him. What was so interesting about him? Everything, Spot knew he was all that, and everyone couldn't take their eyes off of him. But Racetrack Higgins had been the one person who seemed to try his hardest to avoid Spot. Now suddenly today it was like he had completely changed his mind.
The sound of the screeching bell rang through the school. Signalling the start of lunch. Spot knew Morris would be waiting for him at his locker, so he had to get there as soon as possible. Before exiting, Spot took one last look behind his back to see if he could eat a look at whatever was in that binder of his. Nothing, it was closed. Race was looking down, he couldn't see the glare Spot was sending him, he couldn't see the determination and choice Spot had made in that moment.
He was going to find out what was in the binder.
—-
Race was in his usual spot right next to Jack and Davey. Race had been late to lunch, he had been staring out his table ever since he sat down. It came to Spots senses that he was now the one staring. But, that was because he had a goal, he had something he needed to do. Race had no reason, no reason at all. It wasn't that Race looked at him that made Spot feel this way. He was confused, yes, but most of all he was just curious. And the determination and badass attitude that naturally came with him overtook the curiosity, making it almost seem like anger.
Morris - Spot? You okay?
Spot - Huh?
Morris- You've been brain dead all of lunch. Staring. What's up?
He might as well be honest.
Spot - It's Race.
Morris - Racetrack Higgins?
Spot - No, Racecars from NASCAR! Fuck yes.
Morris- What'd he do?
Spot - Kept looking at me in Comm Arts, doodlin in dat binder of his.
Morris - So?
Spot - So, he's da one person who doesn't look at me like I'm some angel from heaven. Now he can't take his eyes offa me? He wrote somethin in dere, and I wanna know what it is.
Morris pushed his tray out of his way and stood up. Spot new this wants gonna be good, not when Morris stands up without warning, without any explanation. Spot and Race may be total strangers, and one of them may be a creep, but Spot wasn't going to let anything bad happen to him, atleast, not until he sees that note.
Morris - Hand it over.
Davey - What?
Morris - The binder.
Davey - N- no.
Morris - What did you say to me?
Jack - HE SAID NO!
Jacks first landed on the table between Dave and Morris. He wasn't going to let anything bad happen to his boyfriend today.
Morris - Give me the damn binder!
Spot - Morris!
Morris - What? You wanted to see the binder.
Races head turned towards Spot. The two made eye contact for a few moments. Mike could see the absolute fear that brewed in the boys eyes. He should have known better than to tell Morris about this. He always overreacted about the most stupid things. His older brother, Oscar, had to go to anger management classes. Spot was sure Morris wasn't as insane as his brother, but some of that had rubbed off on him for sure.
Spot - Morris, fuck off.
Morris - What?
Spot - You 'eard me. Get away from em.
Morris clutched Races collar, pulling him towards the two. By now, the whole cafeteria had eyes on the boys. Some even had phones out, taking pictures and videos that would capture whatever Spot would do next. By now, teachers should be breaking them up, but then again, no one wanted to get in the way of Spot Conlon. Even Morris Delancey. The two made eye contact, stared, you could hear a pin drop in the room. Morris and Spot may be close to what one might call friends, and Morris was tough. Everyone knew not to doubt Spots size at 5'3, because if he wanted to, he could and will kick your ass.
It was a fact.
Morris - You've gone soft Conlon.
Spot - I neva gone soft.
Morris - Standin up for a stranger, Sean.
Spot - My name is Spot. Fuck off Morris. I ain't gonna repeat myself.
Everyone was speechless. Morris scoffed as he pushed himself back. He walked up to Spot, only a few inches away from the boy. His middle finger raised in the air, a few centimetres from Spot eyes. Gasped echoed from the room, resulting in the loud footsteps of Morris as he stepped out of the room. The door shutting behind him.
Spot sighed and looked back at Race, his eyes drawn to the floor where the binder lay. Races mouth was agape, his eyes wide, this had been the last thing he had expected to happen today. Spot grabbed ahold of his binder, feeling the soft plastic and crumpled papers in his finger. He could look right now, but he resisted the urge as he handed the binder it's rightful owner.
Spot - Sorry.
Spot walked back to his tables. His footsteps being the loudest thing in the room. As soon as he sat down, the volume escalated. Conversations bursting at the second. Spot knew they were all about him. Spot knew this was going to bring down his social status. If he would've just stayed on Morris's side. He didn't need to defend Race, there was nothing to defend. His ultimate goal was just to see that binder, but he couldn't even accomplish that.
10 years later
Katherine - Alright everyone. As you might now, we have gained a new crew member joining today. His name is Anthony and all we ask is you treat him just like any other crew member.
Spot nodded to himself. He had joined the Newsies musical about a year ago. Originating the role of Tommy Braco. He was a known actor on set, on stage, and online and it seemed like new actors would be joining and leaving left and right. At around 10 AM, he walked into his office and noticed and unfamiliar face, figure standing there. Spot cleared his throat to alert the stranger to his presence. The boy had sandy, curly blonde hair, and a very built figure. His eyes widened in surprise, and Spot felt himself smirking as he could see the boys cheeks turning pink right before his eyes.
Race - I'm sorry, I'm just, I'm new and I couldn't find the bathroom.
No.
Spot - Ummm, I'm sorry, are you's Anthony?
Race - Ummm, I, yes, that'd be me.
He was the new guy. Was he? He didn't seem so sure about his name. Spot was speechless as the boy almost sprinted out of the room. He was frozen, in awe and shock. Spot had been looking for him for years. Desperate to find him, but being too much of a pussy to show the woods on his skin. But, would anybody be real happy about it? As a teenager, Spot thought he had a reason for being pissed off at his soulmate. They had to say such stupid words that stuck on his skin forever. His embarrassing tattoo was a permanent joke in his family. But, over the year, he had learned to deal with it, embrace the jokes. Because this tattoo was his and whoever spoke those words didn't know what they were doing.
Spot - Hey Al, did you's happen to see the new kid?
Albert - Mmhph. Strutting round like he owns da place!
Spot - Ya don't say? Just caught em in my office. Lookin for da bathroom.
Albert - Ah, I doubt that. Probly jus wanna excuse ta spy on you.
Spot - Anthony, right?
Albert - Ye, but he tol us ta call em Racetrack! Would ya believe it, where ya think he came up wit dat one huh?
Spot - R-racetrack.
Spot had known one named Racetrack. This couldn't be.
Albert - Ey, Conlon, you's okay?
Spot - Calls me crazy, but I think he's my soulmate.
Albert - Ya crazy!
Spot - He said da words Al! But...I think I might know em.
Albert - That's impossible.
Spot - Nah, I knew em in high school. Never talked at em, I don't think I did. But I knew his name, it's not just every day ya meet a guy named Racetrack.
Albert - Now that's true.
Spot - What should I do?
Albert - Do what I did wit Elmer.....
—
Jack - Good ta have ya back Racer.
Race - Good ta be back Kelly.
Jack - Neva thought you'd choose ta be in musical theatre.
Race - What can I say, I'm a natural!
Appearing from the doorway entered David, Dave, Davey Jacobs.
Jack - Dave!
Jack had informed Race that after many years, the two were engaged. Race smirked, replying that it was about time. Apparently the one and only David agreed. Race had been at work for about a week now. He couldn't be more happier with his job. He had grew to love dance, singing, acting, and almost everything about the theater. Having his old friends there with him made everything worth while.
Davey - I'm still in shock that you're here.
Race - Ey, miracles happen.
Jack - Ye, Crutchie n Spot were here way 'fore us dough.
Race - Spot Conlon?
Davey - What other Spot is there?
Jack - Why?
Race - I- I jus...I think I ran into him already, I's jus didnt know't was em.
Jack - Still didn't got any talla.
Davey - Have you found your soulmate yet, Race?
Race - How could I know? Far I know, ev'ry people eva said sorry ta me is my soulmate!
Davey - Well maybe your soulmate has a unique sentence from you.
Jack - Ya do say a lotta shit Racer.
Race - Yea, yea.
The three had a small giggle come out of them all. Davey stared down at his hands, biting his lip. Race knew he was thinking, he always bit his lip when he was thinking. After a few seconds, Race spotted a smirk appear on the curly haired boys face. Not just a funny smirk, he was thinking something, thinking something that would definitely embarrass Racetrack in one way or another. Every second felt like an eternity as he waited for him to spit it out, thinking of all the nerve racking possibilities.
Davey - Betcha ten dollars, his soulmate is Spot.
Jack - Well look it you, bettin, bettin at Spot Conlon's name.
Davey - This isn't high school anymore Kelly. His name doesn't matter anymore.
Jack -Shaddup and c'mere.
Davey smiled, his dimples showing as his fiancé bet down from his position on top of the table to kiss him. Race rolled his eyes. He loved his best friends, but they were head over heels for each other. Disgustingly in love, but adorable.
Jack - Well, I betcha 20 his soulmate ain't Spot!
Davey - You gotcha self a deal!
Race rolled his eyes at his friends. He hadn't ever said a word to Spot Conlon, nobody had. If Jack and Dave had been here long enough to know Spot, they would've known he still didn't have his soulmate. Race would admit he was the slightest bit attracted to Spot in high school, the slightest bit. And he was the slightest bit attracted to the man he had walk into the office of, looking for the bathroom. But he had been attracted to other girls, and other boys, Spot Conlon was nothing special. Atleast, not to Racetrack.
Davey - Shows gonna start soon boys. Let's get into costume.
Race and Jack nodded, following the raven haired boy out of the room. Unknowing that Davey was certain he would be receiving 20 dollars that day. Spot Conlon himself had told him.
They were much more than halfway done with the show, it was almost over atleast. Race stood backstage as he heard the voices of Spot and the other Newsies ring through the theatre, towards his dear friend Jack, who was sitting on stage. The audience cheers, claps, and screeches echoed through the building. Race followed Davey to the other side of the stage, ready to enter with their Manhattan sign in a few seconds.
Just as planned, it was the scene where Pulitzer declared equal pay for the Newsies. Screams from his fellow actors went flying around him. All of the, highfiving, hugging. Race launched his hands into the air, feeling a small tap on the back of his shoulder. Most of this part was just improvised, but Race still didn't see the point in tapping his shoulder. He turned his head anyway and saw that he had become face to face with the king of Brooklyn, Spot Conlon. Race spread his hands in the air, expecting Spot to pull him into a hug like the rest. He had realised that he had been wrong, so horribly wrong when he felt the boys tough hands grab his shirts collar. Races eyes bulged open, his face immediately going read. He knew what Spot was doing, but before he could even tell himself that, Spot had leaned in and had connected lips with the sandy blonde. Cheers from the audience grew even louder. Race leaned into Spots kiss, it was sloppy, quick, there were no fireworks or explosions in Races heart. Only happiness and realisation.
Spot let go and leaned up to look into his soulmates eyes. Racetrack scratched the back of his head. Catching a glimpse of Spots words as he held his wrist out to him.
Spot - Good ta see ya afta all these years.
Race - I saw ya last week.
Spot - Don't ruin it Racer.
Little did he know, that on the far side of the stage, Jack was rolling his eyes, cursing to himself. Davey was sending him smirks from where he stood. Looks like he was gonna be loosing that 20 bucks. But what Jack did not know, was that Davey was not going to be the one who kept his money. For Davey had lost a bet to Crutchie, and needed to pay him back. What better way to get money, than to steal it from your boyfriend. So, not only was that the day Racetrack Higgins fell for his soulmate, but it was also the day that Jack Kelly learned not to bet, especially when love was on the line.