The Strike (A Newsies fanfiction)

I Climb the Fire Escape of Doom

I walked through the dark streets of New York City, my footsteps echoing off the cobblestones. A cool breeze blew by, causing me to shiver. I shifted my cigar in my mouth, rubbing my cold arms. This was one of the few moments when I wished I could light my cigar, just for some extra warmth. I rarely did light it. I couldn't afford to buy new ones.

Finally I arrived at the Brooklyn Newsboys Lodging House. All the lights were off. I knocked on the door. Usually there was at least someone awake. But nope. No answer. Looks like I was going to have to do this the hard way.

I made my way around to the side of the building and yanked down the ladder of the fire escape, then began to climb. One, two, three levels. I stopped to take a break. Stupid Spot Conlon and his stupid attic bedroom. Why couldn't he be on the bottom floor? Much less painful. But noooo, he had to have his own private bedroom on the very top floor. I continued climbing until I finally reached the attic window.

I stood on the thin platform for a moment, shivering in the cold. I rapped my knuckles against the window, praying to whatever deity was paying attention that someone would answer. All was silent for a moment, and then a light flickered on. Hooray! I wasn't going to freeze to death. I could vaguely see a figure moving around the room. What was taking him so long? I knocked again. I stepped back, crossing my arms and leaning against the railing. The window slid open to reveal a short, muscular Cuban-American boy. He squinted into the darkness.

"Who's there?" he called. I rolled my eyes.

"Race. Duh. Who else would be showing up outside your window in the middle of the night?" I said sarcastically. He shot me an annoyed look. He stepped back as I climbed in the window. I tossed my legs over the windowsill, toppling to the ground and banging my already bruised jaw. Ow. Stupid window. Spot crossed the room and stood near the bed, the lantern next to his bed casting a faint glow over him. I hesitated, then walked over to him. Spot gasped as the glow of the lantern made the dark bruises on my face painfully obvious.

"Who did this to you?" he asked, a worried look on his face. He reached up like he was going to touch the bruises, then quickly pulled his hand away.

"Bulls soaked us for strikin'," I explained. Anger flashed across his face, but it was quickly replaced with seriousiosity (because that's a word).

"Racer, what're you doin' here?" I pretended to be offended.

"What, I can't come visit my friend?" He gave me a doubtful look. I sighed. "I- I came to talk to you'se," Spot crossed his arms.

"About the strike?" I nodded, pulling my cigar out of my mouth. "Racer-" he started. I cut him off, staring at the ground to avoid making eye contact..

"Look, I know me askin' you'se for help doesn't hold no more weight then when Jackie asked you'se, just because we's... better friends, and all," I could feel Spot's eyes on me, but I continued talking. "But we're going to lose this without you, Spot," I dug the toe of my boot into the ground. "And I'se already decided that I'm going down with Manhattan,"

"They's gonna drag me off to da Refuge, or imma do somethin' stupid and get myself killed. So I ain't here to ask for anything," I paused, taking a deep breath. "I'm here to say goodbye," I risked a glance up at Spot. He looked shocked and- no, it couldn't be- the fearless Spot Conlon looked scared. He was silent, his eyes fixed on me.

"Race..." his voice trailed off. I waited for him to say something else, but he didn't. I sighed, then turned and began to walk back towards the window. I walked slowly, waiting for him to stop me, to tell me to be careful or something. Anything. But he remained silent. So much for being  friends. Guess he didn't care about me the way I cared about him. Whatever. It was fine.

 As I climbed out the window, I glanced behind me. Spot stood where I had left him, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. I turned away, tears threatening to fall as I stuck my cigar back in my mouth and made my way down the fire escape and into the dark streets of New York.

Hi. Told ya there'd be some sprace (kinda sorta). Kind of depressing but oh well. This is the fifth chapter I've posted today (you're welcome!). 

I'm actually three chapters away from finishing this fic (though I haven't posted all of the chapters that I have written). 

I mentioned this in one of my other notes but I'm going to post a few other newsies fics, and it would be great if you could check those out. I'll let you know when I post them.

Please COMMENT and VOTE!

- Peaches