Three Words Eight Letters • Spot Conlon

• O n e •

picture above is Buster^^

Running wasn't exactly his favorite thing, but his legs were pushing forward at a vast speed, a tightening feeling forming in his chest as his legs started to pulse in pain. It was too hot outside to be running like that, but he did it regardless, holding onto his cap with one arm so it wouldn't fly off his head and hit one of the many pedestrians walking down the Brooklyn Bridge. The East river was glistening, catching his eye as it sparkled immensely--

"Hey!! Watch it, kid!" A man in a black suit shouted as he violently bumped into him. He didn't bother to say sorry, stumbling on his feet as he tried to gain his balance back. He divided his attention back in front of him, making sure not to bump into anyone else for the time being.

~•~

He slowed down, not realizing how horribly his legs hurt until he stopped running. He almost collapsed on the ground, but just fought the pain through, barely holding up.

Brooklynites were crowding the docks, jumping into the East River. They were shouting at the top of their lungs, laughing like they just heard the funniest thing in the world, and splashing muggy water into each other's eyes.

"Buster!!" Spade called from the river, waving his hand to get his attention.
"Hey Spade," He replied, siting on the docks as his legs dangled far above the water, a few droplets falling on his ankles as it sent goosebumps up his arms. Spade climbed back on the docks, taking a seat next to Buster.

"How's Cowboy," Spade asked sarcastically. Spade didn't exactly have a strong liking for Jack, and neither did Buster, even though he was a Manhattan Newsie himself.
"Snot faced," Buster replied, and Spade let out a hearty chuckle. Buster always cringed at the raspiness of his voice. It always sounded like it was breaking.

A foot was suddenly placed on Spade's back, pushing him into the river as he screeched on the way down.
"Took you long enough," Buster smiled as Spot took a seat next to him.

"Oh shut it, that was record breaking time," Spot joked, handing Buster a pebble. "Bet you a whole quarter you can't hit Buck's head with this pebble."
Buster scoffed. "Watch me."

He slipped out his slingshot from his pocket, placing the pebble in the socket as he closed one eye, aiming carefully at Buck's head. There were so many newsies, Buster almost couldn't see the water; he could do this, right?
"Don't mess up don't mess up don't mess up," Spot teased, whispering in his ear so he could screw it all.

"Ow!!" Buck screeched, his head ducking under water.

Buster looked back at Spot, who was glaring at him and crossing his arms.
"I just remembered I don't gotta quarter," Spot shrugged.

"Bastard," Buster said as he tried to cover it with a cough. Spot playfully conked Buster's head wth his pimp cane.
  Buster winced, rubbing his head with the tip of his fingers.

"Bastard," Spot mocked, also covering it with a cough.
Buster rolled his eyes. "So, who was it this week."
"Eh," Spot shrugged. "This lousy stage five clinger. What was her name. . . Ellie? Eli?"

"Stage five? How'd you get rid of her?"

"Pretended I had amnesia," Spot said casually.
"Are you serious??" Buster laughed. Spot nodded, stifling a smile.

   "Oh, I almost forgot, I have a surprise," Spot said. Buster raised an eyebrow, "I don't like surprises."
   "Surprise!!" Spot shouted before pushing Buster off the docks into the water.