Spot Conlon Finds his Queen

Chapter One

The wind roared passed me as I walked down the disheveled brick road. My heel continuously got wedged inbetween the corrupted cracks, but this route was always safer. Well, as safe as an area in Brooklyn can be.
My mind began to wander to my itinerant job. I travel around to major cities and sing for gatherings. I was shaken out of my train of thought when the assemblage of Newsies rushed into my path.
"Extra! Extra! Read all about it!" rang through my head like annoying and chaotic elevator music. The crowd of boys bombarded me with whistles and suggestive glances as I attempted to walk through them. The breeze returned, and I immediately put my hands over the flowey material of my skirt to refrain from showing these boys too much.
While I wasn't paying attention, one of the younger boys collided into me, making me stumble and fall onto the pavement. I tried to regain my footing, but the crowd of Newsies made that a bit challenging.
As I continued to struggle, a strong hand presented its self in front of me. I glanced up and was captivated by the most handsome boy with a smirk adorning his lips. His grey eyes lit up as I accepted his kind gesture. His muscles flexed as he effortlessly lifted me to my feet, like I weighed less than a feather. He gingerly guided me through the crowd, with his hand firmly on the small of my back. I was shocked that all of the rambunctious boys automatically moved out of his way, and some even gave him respectful nods.
"Are you okay ma'am?" the boy asked when he caught my gaze lingering on his features.
"Ye-yes. I'm okay. Thank you for helping me." I replied, stuttering over my words.
"Never fear, Brooklyn is here," the boy said with a grin plastered on his face. "Names Spot Conlon, the King of Brooklyn. But you can call me Spot."
"Fiona," I muttered, giving him my stage name.
"You don't look like a Fiona, but alrighty." Spot said, stopping me at the end of the alleyway. "Well, I gotta go make sure my knucklehead Newsies do what they s'pposed to. Meet me here at seven. Okay? Okay." Spot kissed my hand and jogged off, returning to the group of hooligans.
"O-okay," I whispered, even though the boy with the red suspenders was too far away to hear.