Newsies Oneshots 2.0

Torn Apart-S&J, My OCs

Okay, Jet and Simmer break up chapter. It's here. It's funny how the one before this is super cute and fluffy and then this one is supposed to...not be cute and fluffy.

WARNING: mentions of abuse, swearing, angst

If you cry, sorry. If you scream, sorry. If you don't like it, sorry.

Enjoy!

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Another Friday, another meeting.

Spot and Jack were still arguing, but they changed the subject. Jet, Simmer, Roller, and Smalls sat, listening to them bicker once again.

"I'm just sayin' the way it was led was a little rushed", Spot shrugged, crossing his arms. "You didn't give anyone a heads up."

"Well, sorry I didn't send you a letter to let you know that we was all gonna quit our jobs", Jack mused sarcastically, his brows furrowed. "It didn't occur to me that you have to set up a strike with weeks of plannin'."

"You kinda have to, Jack", Spot stated obviously, looking at the leader like he was crazy. "That's stuff we could've planned for. Maybe we would've been more prepared!"

"We would've been prepared if you and your boys came to help us the first time."

"Oh, so that's what this is about."

Jet rolled his eyes as he sat quietly, bouncing his leg with impatience. Simmer asked him, very nicely, to not act out a few weeks ago, and he's been doing really well so far. He doesn't speak where he doesn't need to, and speaks when asked to. He's a brainless idiot.

He looked over at the other leaders, Roller having put her head down from a pounding headache and Smalls having fallen asleep with her head in her hand. He looked over at Simmer and noticed how bored he was, knowing exactly how he felt.

Spot and Jack get everything. That conversation was always ringing in his head. Simmer was very clearly okay with the way things were run here, but the thought of it still made Jet itch. He scratched all over at the thought of suppressing his thoughts.

He closed his eyes with a sigh, placing his head down onto the table. Thoughts of when he was a little kid flashed through his mind, how his father would hit the back of his hands with a ruler because he couldn't keep his thoughts to himself. How his mother could only watch, fearful for her son's life if she intervened.

How he was told to make his bed in the same boring way everyday, cleaning the house from floor to ceiling just for his father's enjoyment. Mom, never did anything.

Quite frankly, Jet was always so tired of biting his tongue. And he hated people that told him to do it. "Please, talk about something else."

Everyone turned to look at Jet, who began to sit up. "You've been talkin' about the strike for nearly two months after it happened. Let. It. Go."

Spot narrowed his eyes at the older boy, obviously offended. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, sorry, did I interrupt the King of Brooklyn?" Jet feigned remorse, rolling his eyes. "Whoopdeedoo."

"Jet", Simmer whispered, looking at his boyfriend worriedly. "What are you doing?"

Jet ignored him. "Do you two even hear yourselves? It's the same thing over and over again—I'm right, you're wrong, I'm right. Do something different!"

The entire room was silent once again, differing from the usual noise of Jack and Spot's bickering. Jet smirked slightly, feeling as if everyone was listening to him. "It's stupid, and frankly, I'm tired of it."