𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄 | ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴʟᴏɴ

𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

COWBOY AND FRENCHIE WERE SOME OF THE BEST SELLERS IN NEW YORK CITY.

Especially since they almost refused to give the exact headline. They knew it wasn't exactly right to lie about the headlines, but they weren't the ones making lazy titles.

The new headline, Lost Horse Found in Lower Manhattan, seemed pretty lame. Everything they told the buyers was so amazing, they made it seem like it should've been illegal.

Animals abandoned and left for dead? Sweet!

Strangers try and steal prized possessions from rich families uptown? They were all like, sign me up!

Convicts try to take move stolen horse out of an alleyway? Nice!

They didn't quite understand the whole where-the-horse-came-from business, which is why they kept bugging Jack and Frenchie about it, making sure they weren't selling fake news.

Frenchie showed them the papers, the headline showing right on the front page. Above the fold.

"Do I get a horse?" someone asked.

Frenchie glanced at him like she found the idea disturbing. "You can get your own, if you'd like."

"Yeah, what's up with that?"

"Usually, we newsies don't do so much talkin' to our customers," Frenchie said. "What's it to ya?"

"What's it to me?" The boy must had heard somebody say that before, but she was still dismayed. "I'm just curious as to why youse don't recognize me."

"I'm sorry," Frenchie said. "I don't quite remember."

Frenchie was putting off thinking about their history. Especially since she probably already looked rude from her words earlier.

"I don't looks the same as I did all those years ago," the boy said. "I s'pose it's a good thing you don't know who I am."

Frenchie took a while to answer, seriously debating this. "Yeah, I suppose you do look awfully clean. That's usually good."

"My sister and I — we used to be lamplighters."

"I'm sorry. Still nothin'"

"We met in Brooklyn, two or three years ago. Dunno why it matters so much to me."

"Oh!" Frenchie slapped her face. "The leeries!"

Even though Frenchie hadn't exactly remembered the boy, she didn't want to go too far into a lie. This boy was probably one of the only Brooklyn kids she could get along with. Especially since things had ended badly the last time she ran into the King of Brooklyn.

     Besides, even thinking about those days brought up bad memories for her. Maybe that was why she forgot about meeting the lamplighters all those years ago. She made a mental note to apologize to them for it later.

"My dads mayor now, if you should care."

"Oh, I suppose that's a good thing." Frenchie forged ahead before the boy could ask anything else.

"My name's Seamus," he said to Frenchie. "What's—"

"Seamus!" a girl called out, running towards the two. "Ma and Pa have been looking everywhere for you."

Frenchie tried to hide it, but her face had grown a bright shade of pink when the girl came over. She tried a lousy attempt at looking in another direction before shaking her head.