Renaissance: A Crutchie Morris x Reader

1. While You're Here

Hello, and welcome to my very first Newsies fic! If you're reading this, I'm already greatful. Thank you for taking the time to read my strange idea. Before we start, there are a couple of things you need to know: I don't curse, and I don't feel comfortable writing it, either, unless it's a Shakespearean curse, in which case there will be plenty of those. I know it's out of character for the Newsies not to curse, but this is how it's going to be. Thank you for understanding, Grace.
Song above is my Renaissance Faire theme song.

(Y/N)'s POV

It was a sweltering day in New York City. Kids were crowding the fountains in the middle of squares and parks, people lounged on picinic blankets in the shade of the big Oak trees on either side of Main Street, and the cops on duty fanned themselves with their caps and drank lemonaid. On a normal occasion, I wouldn't be caught dead in the middle of Manhattan right now. But today is market day, which means that Me, My sister, Mina, and my best friend, Resa, are in charge of shopping for the actors at the Harlem Renaissance Faire. 
Yeah, you heard me right.
Before you run away or start laughing, let's get something straight. I don't laugh at your family's life descisions. So don't laugh at mine, got it? Good. But I'm gonna take a wild guess and figure that you'd rather hear the rest of the story, so here it is:

It all started when Mina dared me to buy a glass of water and dump it over my own head. I guessed it was fair, since I was doing most of the complaining about the heatwave, and anyways, who was I to turn down a good dare? So I went into the nearest restaurant, bought a tall glass of water, and returned to our spot in front of the fountain,  in the square, which not surprisingly was dry. I stood well away from our grocerey bags, steeled myself, and tipped the glass, shrieking as the nearly freezing water trickled down my back. Mina and Resa were laughing away, and I was shimmying in an awkward way to get the last of the ice out of my dress. And since I wasn't about to let them have all the fun, I grinned, and declared in the voice I usually save for preformances,

"Mina, do you know who looks like they need a hug?"

"Don't you dare," Was her reply, but she was too late.

"YOU." I grabbed her into an awkward type of hug, so that the water on my dress dampened the front of hers, but she laughed good naturedly and shoved me away playfully.

"I think that you should go down to the bakery and buy those four loaves of bread we need, while Resa and I go get the vegetables. You know the way back to the Faire. We'll meet you there, OK?"

I nodded, accepted the money Resa was holding out to me, and strolled off in the direction of the bakery. Mina is two years older than me, and Resa is one, but we could've easily been triplets. The only noticable difference between us was that while they both favored the rolls of princesses when acting each year, I preferred to be a minstrel. I never could explain why, but it felt right somehow. Like I was really a medievel strolling player, singing songs for kings and staying away from pillory. 
I was so caught up in my thoughts, I nearly walked right past the bakery.
I shook my head at my aloofness, purchased the bread, and began the walk back to Harlem, weaving throught the crowded streets and ducking underneath low-hanging clotheslines. I was turning my head around to smile at an Organ Grinder playing music on a street corner when it happened. I was always being reminded, sometimes kindly, and sometimes not-so-kindly to watch where I was going on the streets. But this instruction seemed to constantly slip my mind. The Organ Grinder was waving merrily at me, and I was just about to turn around so I could put a dime in his tin cup when I collided with something, or rather, someone. There was a yelp, which I was pretty sure came from me, and a pronounced Oof  from the person beneath me. We toppled into an abandoned alleyway, save for a scruffy looking orange cat. I could feel my cheeks burning as I rolled away from the person I had so rudely crushed, apologizing profusely. 

"S'alright, Miss," I stood up, brushing off my dress, reached a hand to the boy who had just spoken, and helped him up. "You'se wouldn't mind fetching that for me, Would you'se?" 

I glanced over to where he was pointing, and noticed a battered, wooden crutch lying on the ground a few feet away. Oh, Gosh. Not only had I crashed into a boy, I'd crashed into a boy with a crutch. Another thing for Mina and Resa to laugh about. I retrieved it, grinning sheepishly, and handed it back to him, looking him up and down quickly as I did. He was tall, with chocolate brown eyes, and a goofy, lopsided grin. He was wearing a newsboy cap, and judging by the stack of papers lying in the street, I'd interuppted his work. I picked up the papers for him, too, and he reached over to shake my hand.

"Crutchie Morris, at your humble service." 

I couldn't help laughing. "I'm (Y/N) (L/N). You seem like a good actor." I smiled back, returning his handshake.

"I'se guess you'se gotta be, when you'se in the sorta bussiness like mine. You know 'bout acting?"

I struck a match from the box I always kept in my pocket, and popped it into my mouth, closing my lips around the tiny flame. Crutchie's eyes went wide. "(Y/N) (L/N), current Fire-Eater for the Harlem Renaissance Faire," I gave an mocking bow, pulling the spent match from between my teeth as I did so.

"Wow," Crutchie whispered, then speaking louder, he said, "How come I'se ain't never heard of da Harlem Ren... Ren..."

"Renaissance," I prompted. "But most of us actors just call it the Ren Faire. Or the Faire."

"Well, Ok, how come I'se ain't never heard of da Ren Faire?"

"We're loosing popularity," I admitted, keeping my eyes on the brick wall behind Crutchie. This was a sore subject for all the actors. "Less people come every summer. We'll probably have to close down a few years from now."

"Dat's too bad," Crutchie frowned, seemingly thinking for a minute. "Say, I'se got a friend whose goil is a reporter for da sun, maybe she could write an article about it."

"Really?" I could feel my spirits lifting, giving way enough to allow the tiniest spark of hope into my heart. All of us at the Faire had been working to get more people to come for a couple years now, but our efforts proved fruitless. But this, this could actually amount to something. "That would be amazing. Mr. Crutchie Morris, you might've just saved the Harlem Renaissance."

Crutchie looked slightly uncomfortable, grinning down at his shoes. "Well, dat might be a bit of an ovastatement,"

I grinned. "Nah. Hey, come down and visit Saturday afternoon, that's when this year's first joust and human chess match are. Bring your friends, as many as you like. Tell the box office (Y/N) sent you."

Crutchie looked up, a twinkle in his eye. "Sure thing, sounds like fun. But I'se got a lot of friends, if you'se knows what I'se means."

I waved my wrist at him, attempting to look pompous. "Bring 'em all, for all we care. The more the merrier." As I said this, I glanced at my wristwatch. "Aw, Gee. I gotta get back to the Faire. It was nice to meet you, Crutchie." I smiled.

"A pleasure, Miss (Y/N). And while you'se here, buy a pape?"