You didn't remember much from your childhood. In a way, that was a good thing; there was probably a lot of things that you didn't want to remember. But one person from your childhood stuck out to you like a sore thumb: a freckled red headed boy named Albert who you were absolutely in love with as a seven year old.
You and Albert had been the only two children who were really allowed out during the day in your neighborhood so you guys became fast friends, spending the summer days playing tag and making snowmen in the winter. As you both were granted more freedom - more freedom meaning that you both were able to walk two blocks to the convenience store, two cents in your and Albert's pockets so you could get a piece of candy or two - Albert would proudly parade you around those two blocks, holding your intertwined hands above your heads and exclaim to anyone you passed that you were his girlfriend.
You both had spent as much time together as seven year olds could and during that time, you found yourself blushing when Albert would grab your hand and you realized this wasn't a normal feeling. Albert did talk about you guys being boyfriend and girlfriend but who knew if he meant it? Kids never mean things they say. They're naive and repeat things they hear adults say, maybe that's all it was.
So when your grandmother got sick when you were eight years old, your father packed your family into a train and off you rode to Chicago, Illinois. You were heartbroken, of course; you never got to say goodbye to Albert. The night before, you told him you'd see him the next morning and now it's quite possible you'll never see him again. During the train ride, you found yourself wondering about what Albert was doing and what he was going to do when he realized you were gone. When tears started pricking your eyes, you quickly shook that thought out of your mind and leaned your head on your mother's shoulder, quickly falling asleep.
But that was all in the past, you and Albert's friendship, you moving to Chicago. Since your father passed away a few months after you turned seventeen, you were moving back to Manhattan with your mom. It was easier to find jobs for you and your mother in New York than anywhere else so you were moving back to where you grew up. In the back of your mind, you found yourself wondering if Albert would live at the same house or if you'd see him again but you knew that it would probably be a long shot.
Settling back into the New York lifestyle was like riding a bike; it was bumpy at first but after that, it was a smooth ride. You got a job as a Manhattan newsie and started selling ten papers a day, earning just enough to keep some bread on your table for dinner. You didn't know many of the other newsies, choosing to stay more to yourself but there was one newsie who intrigued you.
You didn't know his name, all you knew is he had red hair and light freckles and looked like what you imagined Albert would look like at an older age. You were fairly certain it was him but you also didn't want to ask in case it wasn't him. So you spent your days selling papers and watching the boy on the street corner a block away from you. Little did you know, the redhead boy named Albert watched you as well, wondering if you could possibly be the childhood best friend that he fell in love with - the childhood crush who broke his heart.
-
After watching the boy with a large smile on his face at all times for a few weeks, you approached a blond haired newsie who always had a cigar in his mouth. "Hi, I'm (Y/N)."
He gave you a crooked smile, the cigar still hanging out of his mouth, and tipped his hat towards you. "Race, nice to meet ya."
You cast a nervous glance over your shoulder, checking for the Albert-look-alike. Not seeing him, you looked back at Race once again. "Race, is it possible for me to talk to you privately?"
You could see a question beginning to form in his eyes but when Race saw you nervously start to chew on the bottom of your lip, he lightly took ahold of your wrist and pulled you into a empty alleyway. "Is everythin' okay?"
You flushed red and cleared your throat. "You're friends with that red headed newsie right?"
Race laughed lightly, pulling his cigar out of his mouth and twiddling with it in his hand. "You mean Albert? If you're interested, all you have to do is ask, I could introduce ya right away-"
"No!" You cut Race off and you could see him look at you questioningly. Your heart was beating fast. The boy you've been watching was Albert. And you didn't know what to do with that information. "I mean, no thank you." Race looked like he was about to walk away when you called out to him again. "Race, I think Albert was my childhood best friend."
"You think? Ain't you sure?" Race was standing in front of you again, looking at you questioningly.
"I moved away, without so much as a goodbye and they share the same name and look about what I'd picture him to look like now but I'm not sure." You ran your fingers through your hair and let out a sigh. "I just want to know for sure."
"Well that's easy," Race started and just when you were about to protest, he held up a hand to stop you. "He's one of my best buds. I'll just casually bring up childhood friends in a conversation one day."
You threw your arms around Race's neck, startling him slightly. He hesitantly hugged you back, patting your back awkwardly. "Thank you so much Race!"
-
The subject of childhood best friends came up sooner than you thought it would. After that long day of selling, Race and Albert piled some money together to go get a bottle of vodka that they could pass back and forth up on the roof of the lodge.
In between sips, Albert found himself moving closer and closer to Race, and by the time he was ready to ask Race a question, their thighs were touching. "Racer, y'know that new newsie? The one who don't talk to anyone?"
Race took a sip, grimacing at the burn of the liquid sliding down his throat. He never really liked alcohol, vodka especially, but it was Albert's favorite and it was better to drink it with him than to let him drink alone. "Yeah, even talked to her today."
Race watched Albert carefully, gauging his reaction to what Race had just told him. "I think I know her. Ya know her name?"
Albert took the bottle back from Race and downed the last of it, burping after he finished the sip. "Her name is (Y/N), she seems real sweet too."
Albert held the bottle over the edge of the roof and let go, watching it fall and shatter to pieces on the street below. "I loved a girl named (Y/N) when I was seven years old. And then one day she was gone... really just about broke my heart."
When Race looked at Albert's face, he found Albert hurring to swipe away a stray tear. Race moved closer to Albert and wrapped an arm around his best friend's shoulder, Albert leaning into his touch slightly.
-
Two weeks later and you hadn't seen Albert or heard from Race. Every time you thought you heard Albert's laugh, it was a random person on the street. So finally, after selling one day, you went to the famous Manhattan Newsies lodge and found Race sitting at a small table, playing poker with a few other newsies. "Race,"
Race looked up at you, the smile dropping off of his face when he saw you. "(Y/N), how are you?"
You impatiently tapped your foot, motioning to the front door with your head. "Can I talk to you outside. Please."
Race immediately threw down his cards and followed you silently, never once looking up from the ground. Once you were far enough away from the lodge house, Race looked up at you, tears filling his eyes. "I'm sorry I never came and talked to you about Albert, (Y/N). About two weeks ago we got drunk and he told me about you. He's your childhood best friend and-" Race broke off, a sob wracking through his body. "And that night, hours later after I saw him, he was in bed with a high fever back at home. I thought he'd get over it but I went and checked on him about three days ago and he's not doing good. Al's dad had a doctor come to the house, used the rest of their savings for it too, and the doctor told him what I could have told him, just by takin' one look at him." Race used the collar of his shirt to wipe his nose and the he looked you straight in the eye. "Albert's not gonna make it."
"What do you mean he's not gonna make it?" Your own eyes were welling up with tears and you found it hard to concentrate on what Race was saying through the rush of the blood pounding in your ears.
"I mean, the doctor said he got alcohol poisoning and usually they just sweat it out of their body but Al's body isn't." Race grabbed your hand, presumably to stop it from shaking and you wiped your eyes with your free hand.
"Can you take me to see Albert?" Race was about to protest and you stopped him. "Race, I need to see him. Please."
Race sighed, wiping his eyes once more and rejoining your hands. "Let's go."
-
Walking up the stairs to the small house Albert and his dad lived in was one of the hardest things you had to do. Knocking on the door to the house was harder than that. And greeting his father was even harder.
Mr. DaSilva smiled apologetically to you as you explained who you were and led you and Race into the house. He pointed you in the direction of Albert's bedroom and when Race dropped your hand, you knew that you were finally left to do this on your own. Race had helped you as much as you could but it was your turn to work by yourself.
Quietly pushing open the door to Albert's room, your heart dropped as you looked in, finding him on his bed, eyes half open and a sheen of sweat covering his forehead. Albert's skin was almost white and he had yellow and purple bruises underneath his eyes.
Walking over to his bed, you sat in the chair positioned by it. "Hi Albert. I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm (Y/N). We were kids as best friends. We'd do everything together-"
Albert moved his hand to grab yours and he smiles gently at you. "We'd play tag in the summer and build snowmen in the winter."
Tears spilled onto the knees of your baggy pants that you were wearing and you laughed lightly. "You remember,"
"Of course I do." Albert's voice was soft, barely above a whisper and you felt yourself leaning closer to him to hear him better. "You just left one day. I didn't know what happened."
You squeezed his hand gently and Albert squeezed back. "My dad made us move that morning. I didn't even know what was happening myself."
Albert was quiet for awhile, his eyes closed and his hand resting in yours still. You took that moment to take in his features and memorize what you could of him. "(Y/N)?" You hummed quietly in response and Albert opened his eyes to look at you. "Could you lay with me for awhile?" You stayed quiet, crawling into the bed next to Albert and him moving so that his head was resting on your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair, pulling out the knots that had formed in the weeks he'd been laying dormant in bed. "I have to tell you something, before I die."
"You're not gonna die, don't say that." Your fingers stilled in his hair as he said that and he reached up to grab that hand, holding it in his own and then bringing it up to kiss the top of it.
"I know I am, you know it too. And I'm okay with dying, as long as I know that you know one thing, (Y/N). I love you. I have loved you since we were seven years old and stomping down the street hand and hand, going to get a piece of candy from the convenience store down the street. I loved you even after you left and I never-" Albert broke off, coughing hard. "I never stopped thinking about you. When I saw you on the street corner that day, I should have talked to you because I knew it was you since day one. I am so sorry for not telling you this sooner. I love you."
You pressed a kiss to the top of Albert's forehead. "I question so many things in live but loving you, Albert DaSilva, will be something I will never, ever question. Because loving you was one of the greatest pleasures in my sad little life. I will never be able to stop thanking you for everything you've ever done for me." Albert turned his head up slightly to look at you and when you did, you leaned down to brush your lips against his. "I should go, let you get some rest. I'll come back tomorrow."
You moved to get out of his bed and Albert grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving him for just a moment longer. "Please don't come back tomorrow. (Y/N), I can feel it. I'm not gonna make it after tonight. Everything just," another cough wracked through his body and your heart fell to the bottom of your stomach. "Everything's getting dimmer. Just remember that I love you, (F/N) (L/N)."
"I love you, Albert DaSilva. Forever and always."