overture | newsies imagines

racetrack || something good

request for @Call-Me-Marina

An exaggerated groan busted from my mouth, my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

"Someone's happy to see me!" Race plopped down into the seat next to me, yet another unlit cigar between his lips.

"Your lips ever get chapped because they're always hanging open?" I smirked.

Race winked and pulled the cigar from his mouth to lick his lips, "Why don't you gimme a kiss and find out?"

I shoved a hand in Race's face, causing him to stumble out of his chair and into the ground. "Gimme the floor a kiss for me."

Race huffed as I walked out of the lodging house. He and I had never liked each other, as one could pretty obviously see. It's been that way ever since we first met, when he blew cigar smoke into my face. I hated that stupid thing.

I'd never admit to anybody that he looked kinda hot when he lit it up, though.

I was one of the first Newsies in line for the papes a couple blocks later, so I got a fresh, warm stack of the headline. On my way down to my post, I brain stormed different ways to exaggerate the truth.

The original headline said, "Trolly Strikes in Their First Week." But for the entire day, I said the information in between the lines, "Exploited Workers Defy Their Slave Work for the First Time!

It was nearly dark by the time I sold my last pape. With the change jingling in my pocket, I whistled my way back to the lodging house. My feet kicked rocks here and there, carrying me through certain alleys in order to go on the fastest route.

I was nearly on the other side of the last alley when I heard a struggle up ahead. Two men much taller than I were dragging a body along the concrete, the form between them twisting back and forth and grunting.

I ducked into the shadows, flinching when I heard them begin to kick the man. I didn't even think about getting between them, not until I heard a familiar voice cry out for help.

My brain became fuzzy as adrenaline kicked in. I didn't feel stronger, the same as I always did, but i was determined. I grabbed the later recognizable Oscar Delancey by the strap of his suspenders, wrapping it around my hand and up over his head. I tugged as it suffocated him before kneeing him harshly in the groin. He stumbled off to the side as Morris grabbed at him.

He held me around my shoulders, attempting to steady me so he could get a punch in. I pulled myself forward and reared my head back into his. He lost his hold, so I spun around. I grabbed a rock off of the ground below me and threw it at his head.

He and Oscar limped out of there, cussing like sailors.

Race groaned from beneath me and I quickly dropped to my knees. I noticed his cigar on the ground beside him, a ring of red around it from his bleeding lips.

"They got you pretty good, huh?" I mumbled, brushing hair out of his face. I grabbed a cloth out of my Newsies bag and my water tin. "It's gonna sting a bit, but I gotta put pressure on this wound, soz it'll be okay while I get some help."

Race nodded faintly. He tried to speak, but I shushed him. I pressed the rag to his hand, which was cut up pretty bad. I then moved one of his hands beneath mine.

"Hold it in place, okay?"

His eyes flashed in understanding. I stood up and ran out into the street of the lodging house. My head dashed from side to side until I spotted a small crowd of Newsies heading inside.

"Hey! Jack! Crutchie! Help!"

They noticed me right away. The rest of the night seemed like a blur as they carried Race up to his bed. We had a first aid kit that I'd helped build up with random medical items we'd all come across over the past few years. My mother had been a nurse, so I, of course, attempted to patch up as many of his wounds as I could. I couldn't tell if his ribs were broken though when I did the push test, he didn't wince too badly.

I spent the night and most of the next day by his side, on the floor with my head beside his. I woke up to the smell of cigar smoke blowing by my face.

"You could've died last night and you're gonna continue to smoke those things?" I lifted my head, rubbing sight back into my eyes.

Race smiled, "I wouldn't give these up for the world."

"You're something else, Race," I slowly stood from the ground, my back aching from the cement flooring.

I plopped down onto the bed next to his as he said, "You, too, Chitter."

I flashed a smile his way. Something was different between us, something good.