#morris you gotta stop meeting people like this

[theoakandthemistletoe]

Second

It seemed logical, at first. He knew the layout of the manor from his previous life, knew the holes in the perimeter and the route to the rubbish heap behind the kitchens, and if anybody could afford to waste decent food during the shortages, it would be a noble family. Why scrape around anywhere else? The penalty for getting caught would be higher, true, but that was unlikely to happen in ratshape, and Morris also knew that House Skullduggan kept few guards. They preferred a more hands-on approach.

He wished, as a hand closed around his squirming, furry middle, that he had thought about that a bit more.

'Bloody rats. Get out of here.'

At least he didn't have much time to worry about his situation before he was sent tumbling through the air, launched with disgust at the wall of the manor. For a moment he had the joy of feeling his bones crunch against each other with the impact, before the tiny body gave way and the human form came flooding back. It did not make it any less painful. Bones and muscle erupted into the space, the bruises stretched, the pain magnified and swelled through his body.

He lay where he fell. Any movement felt as if it might dislodge something vital before his human body reasserted itself. Conveniently, it also meant not having to look his would-be murderer in the eyes, although there was no ignoring the steady footsteps. A pair of boots came to rest beside Morris's head, disdainfully kicking a rotten potato towards his face.

'Oh. Interesting.'

In time, Morris would come to know that tone of voice for what it was. For now he was simply relieved not to face an immediate interrogation. He rolled gingerly to one side, enough to see the face towering above him but not trusting his limbs enough to stand.

What he saw seemed oddly familiar, despite the light from the kitchen door casting a shadow over them. Morris knew from his time as a ratcatcher that the Skullduggans all looked similar, but this was more than that. Wine and good food had filled out the silken blouse with more of a paunch than before, the heeled boots had been swapped for something rather more practical on a person about to face the onslaught of middle age, and the face showed its first lines, but the grin hadn't changed. Morris was as sure as he could be that this was the same Skullduggan he had met years before, the one who called themself the Marquis.

There wasn't much time for study. Marquis or not, they were definitely a Skullduggan, and therefore unlikely to take kindly to a peasant showing up on their property half-buried in potato. Morris couldn't scrabble away before they reached out.

'Get up.'

There might have been more weight behind their arms, but they were no less strong as they hauled Morris off the ground, holding a fistful of his rags and bringing him to eye level. After a few seconds they dropped him. He staggered briefly, caught himself against the wall, and paused. No strike was forthcoming. There was also, he now noticed, the remains of a perfectly good, if stale, half-eaten honey roll at his feet. He remained bent double a few seconds longer than necessary, long enough to stash it in a pocket, before raising his head. Skullduggan was sneering, but they didn't seem to have noticed the disappearing food.

'Are you a druid, or did you just get polymorphed?'

'Druid.'

'You chose to turn into a rat?'

The sneer was bad. The grin on the edge of laughter was worse. Morris chose not to answer that particular question.

'Don't you want to ask what I'm doing here?' he asked instead. Skullduggan folded their arms, but the gesture was more thoughtful than challenging.

'Not really.'

'Are you going to kill me?'

'Maybe later,' they said. 'First, though, you're going to do me a favour. I need someone to find me some blackmail material on House Tooke, and a druid would do nicely.'

A curl of potato peel slithered out of Morris's hair as he contemplated the request to engage in high level political espionage. He caught it and added it to the honey roll in his pocket. This was not how he had foreseen his evening going, and it was taking some time to adjust.

'House Tooke?' he asked. 'In Dwylionn?'

'Yeah.'

'Why?'

'Because someone with a bloody great sword and the entire Scrantz militia at their disposal asked you to. I thought druids were supposed to be wise?'

'What if I don't?'

'I send the militia to catch the person seen trespassing on Skullduggan property and have you brought before the Court on charges of treason. I'll tell Tirynn you were practising witchcraft, too. Have you heard of the Cauldron?'

Morris shuddered. Everyone knew about the Cauldron. It was enough of an answer for Skullduggan, whose grin returned in full.

'Great. Now, are you going to help me, or am I going to call everyone else out so we can hunt you for sport?'

'I could tell House Tooke.'

'Yeah? And I could deny ever seeing you before in my life, and offer to make a public example of what happens to people who wrongly accuse House Skullduggan.' Satisfied that the silence meant their order had been accepted, Skullduggan unfolded their arms and examined their fingers. 'I'll give you a month, until the Court next convenes. If I don't hear from you I'll assume you want to be arrested and executed.'

Something rattled and light flooded the grounds.

'Cuz! Are you out here?'

'They said they wanted some air.'

'I definitely heard them talking. Cuz! Who are you talking to?'

Skullduggan met Morris's eyes.

'Just the rats,' they called, and dismissed him with a flick of their hand. Morris didn't need telling twice. He sank back into the shadows, pausing only to grab a handful of apple cores, and was already hurrying around the wall as two more Skullduggans appeared from the square of light.

'Hey, Cher, they're over here. Gods, maybe you did overdo it with that vintage. They only had two glasses and now they're talking to the vermin.'

'Come on, we'll get you to bed.'

'I'll grab their hands, you get their legs.'

'I'm not-- would you get off? Let go! Stop it, you deranged brats…'

Along the wall, through the gap rose bushes, and Morris was free, leaving the voices behind. He unhooked the last of the thorns from his clothes and headed towards the cloud of lamplight which marked out the town. Before long, the darkness on the road began to move, became thick with tiny shadows broken by the flash of eyes in torchlight. Morris sat down at the roadside. Rats immediately clambered across his ankles, knees, elbows, sniffing through his pockets for whatever prizes he had secured in the manor grounds. He tossed them the apples and potato peel before splitting the honey roll in half and offering the larger chunk to Fishstinky, who took pride of place on his shoulder.

While he ate his own portion, he considered his options. There was no doubt that Skullduggan was serious in their threats. The question was whether they would keep to their promise of waiting a month, or whether they would get bored and decide to chase him down after all, and given his luck so far, Morris didn't fancy his chances on that front. Making a beeline for Dwylionn or smuggling aboard the next ship to leave the harbour were his only options.

The unholy storm. Bodies pressed together. A slender beam of moonlight on the rising, writhing bones.

No. Not another ship. He sprinkled a few more crumbs on the ground, soon lost under a swarm of starving rats.

'Should we go to Dwylionn?' he asked. Fishstinky stared at him with a mouthful of pastry. Morris barely needed Speak With Animals to understand what that meant. It was the only question the rats had asked him recently.

Will there be more food there?

'Probably. Everyone there is rich.'

Rich. Lots of gold. People said even the bedsheets were made of it in Dwylionn. It sounded terribly uncomfortable, in Morris's opinion, but he wouldn't turn down the chance to find out for himself.

He forced down the last dry morsel of honey roll and settled himself on the dust. If he was going to find a carriage to Dwylionn, he would need some rest. Right now, hungry and exhausted, he doubted he could summon the energy even for a cantrip, and there was a long day ahead tomorrow. The rats snuggled into the crooks of his knees and arms and soon, despite the open night sky above and the looming threat of House Skullduggan, Morris fell asleep.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word

Thanks to my very dear @gracehosborn for the tag!

I am very slowly catching up on these - I have way too many saved

But the good news is my drafts are slowly starting to clear

My words: run, blood, clear, realization

Your words: intense, devote, sign, bare

Tagging @writernopal @writeintrees @ohnomybreadsticks @oh-no-another-idea @the-stray-storyteller @pluppsauthor @orphanheirs @memento-morri-writes @rjcopeseethemald @revenantlore + anyone else who wants to!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

Keep reading for:

Lexi looks for Ash

Meet Wade and Parker

Lexi and Ash discover the gateway

Gwen gets a mini-lesson in Alii powers

Run - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

I gave Carla Baxter a half-smile back, turned around, and headed in the direction she had pointed. As I walked away, I couldn’t help but wonder if she told the truth about Ash’s whereabouts. But what choice did I have? It was the only lead to find Ash. Unless Carla Baxter took Ash herself. But that was a worst-case scenario, and if true, I’d run back and rescue her myself. I reached the forest’s edge, frantically looking around. The brilliant colors that captured my aesthetic attention upon my arrival were now nauseous and overstimulating. I closed my eyes, reaching my hand up to pull and twist my braids. I took a deep breath before opening my eyes. “Ash!” I yelled as I cupped my hands to my mouth. I was met with silence. Obviously, I scolded myself. Why the frick would she be here? The forest was dense and vast—she could theoretically be anywhere. Clues. Maybe there would be a sign of the direction she went. I looked down to see if there were any imprints where she may have stepped. Most of the ground appeared untouched, but my eyes rested on a patch of flattened red ferns a few yards away. I ran toward them, then kept looking at the forest floor. The colorful leaves covering the ground appeared crunched, like someone had staggered through them shortly before I arrived. I followed the path they appeared to make. “Ash!” I called, hoping I was closer. Still, there was nothing.

Blood - from The Secret Portal Part One (Gwen POV)

“Do it!” Parker said to the blond without missing a step. “Man, I don’t—” “You gotta practice, Wade.” Parker reared back his arms over his shoulder before thrusting forward, his arms out and stance strong. A strong wind blew across the room, and I could feel it from where I stood. Wade’s hair blustered around his face, and he held up his arms in a protective “X” in front of his face. He pushed forward against the wind. Once close to Parker, Wade punched the kid in the face, sending Parker over the barricade. I let out a squeak of alarm, bringing my hands up to my mouth as Parker crumpled beside me. As I wondered if I’d have to perform more first aid, and despite the blood on his face, Parker laughed. “Finally,” he said as Wade leapt over the barricade and went to Parker’s side. “Yo, it’s been years and you finally give it your all.” “That wasn't my all,” Wade said, holding his palm over Parker’s face. A white light glowed around his hand. “I’ve tackled people much bigger than your string-bean self to the ground.” “Yeah, but they were wearing football gear.” “Stop talking,” Wade instructed. “You’re gonna mess up the healing.”

Clear - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

“It seems weird,” I said looking at her as I turned around the corner of the school. “Like—ah!” My boot got caught on the grass, causing my feet to slip. I tumbled onto the ground and dropped my violin, the “oof!” that followed indicating Ash tripped over the sturdy case. It was eerily quiet and the smell of the exhaust was gone. I became hyper-aware of the grass I lay in and shot up to a seated position, jumping when I realized nothing was in sight but a dizzyingly-clear horizon. Ash groaned beside me. “Since when does Falcon have grass—” She cut herself off as she pushed herself upright, taking in the sudden new scenery. We sat in the middle of a seemingly endless field. The grass that stretched in each direction appeared freshly mowed, though it lacked the smell that usually came with it. Instead, a chillingly sterile air hit my nose. “Ash,” I asked, low-key freaking out, “where are we?” Ash looked around. “Where did—how did we get here? Where’s the school?” I couldn’t answer. The sun that had been burning in the late afternoon was no longer casting a deathly heat paired with Houston humidity. In fact, looking up, the burning mass seemed to be missing, despite the sky being a soft periwinkle.

Realization - from The Secret Portal Part One (Akash POV)

I turned my head to see Gwen crouching down beside Robbie. “What’re you two doing here?” “Following you,” I admitted. “Do you know what the freak-out is about?” I shook my head. “Probably a Class Four.” Gwen furrowed her eyebrows. “Class Four?” “The rarest powers,” I explained. I gestured to Robbie. “Like energy conversion. Or dimensiokinesis, like your friend Rosalinda.” “Is that a power?” Gwen asked. “It sounds like you smashed a keyboard.” “Dimensio-kinesis,” I repeated slower. “Basically Rosalinda can sense other universes and dimensions and probably cross to them.” Gwen’s eyebrows shot up and her mouth dropped in realization. “I think that’s how she managed to get us to Alium! Rose saw a mirage before anyone else, she heard a hum no one else heard!” Gwen smiled. “Oh my gosh, this all makes sense now!” “Hey, will you two please stop jabbering?” Robbie hissed. “They’re talking!”

[genderlesssinner]

Okay okay okay

They're back

"Sam put that away" 🤣

Team Titan lesss gooo

WHISPERS

Fearne really should insight more but no this is what gets her questioning 🤣

Spook the fuck out of these brats Laudy ye

Many stairs

"if people live here, they probably have incredible legs."

Is that. I can't remember why the titan has chunks of existing structures unless it's just from where it was buried before it was raised, or maybe parts of Vasselheim? My first thought was Thar Amphala but I don't think that's right

Oooh can they earth glide in the titan??? And doing the reforged hand too

Oh just the arm

Hm. Don't like

Wait. Huh. Solo experience I guess

Oohh they're seeing or I guess feeling some of the titans experiences

God don't have any fucking sliver of Vecna here we don't have time for his shit

From the Earth

Of the Earth

To the Earth

I wonder where that's from. Bet it's a Hishari thing

This is wild, I didn't think there would be anything to communicate with here but it's cool as hell

Oh interesting

Memories

Not broken, just in motion

Lots to think about tonight

Aah just fucken passed out for a bit, nice nice

"I think I just had a talk with Exandria"

Yeah basically

*gasp* Exandria's a she??? I knew it!! 🤣

CHOAS CREW 2.0

Butthole zone

"this is awful. Give me a bottle." ASH

Butthole zone is blocked up

Gotta run down the legs

*sigh*

We got such a crafty group on the top table man

Ooh a Chet peice inspired by Nana Morri interesting

Yeaah bring the vibes back Dorian

Musical Sex. Perfect

These absolute chucklefucks. I love them

Uh oh

Why do dynasty warriors want them

A tiny old goblin lady? Of the court likely

A giifffttt?

Aaah yes the Skysibil I kind of remember

Potions of possibility and an orb??

FOUR DAYS

Ooooooo it's triggering Ash's dunamancy interesting

The other half of Ashton's brain 😂

OH it's a buff hell yes it's a short rest fuck yes

IDENTIFY THE MASK. DO IT.

Aaaaaaa

Allura is doing A Lot right now yall let her be a little shook, she's faced the end of the world a few times now

"she said our name" 😂

Leeta!! Cue halfling bullet

And Maeve 😍 I love the Zephyrans

Tree teleporting, yeee

Always a little nostalgic to me

Let's no one try to drown in the lake this time yeah guys

Here come the Nein yall, woo boy that's gonna be fuunnn

Laudna let ropey rest

Oh no

The boat too

Empty towns are so damn eerie man and knowing the lake is haunted just *shivers* nope

Abs and Dirt Wizard

Poor Caleb will never outlive that will he

Woe be to whoever gets in the Tempest's way, indeed.

Orryyymmmm talk to hheerrrrrrr ugh stubborn little man stop being so strong

YES THANK YOU Leeta get the lil man drunk so hell talk

Ohh no Orym baby sending a message to his mama I'm gonna cry ohhh I love heerrr

Oh no they're gonna make me really cry. Imogen talking to her dad,,, 🥺

Braius 🤣 it has been four days, one, and two,, you are sworn for the biggest Betrayer god and are cheating on him.... Soooooo

Phrasing man this is also why they don't trust you

Dorian talking about Orym's strength and honor,,,,

👀👀👀

Braius: I might still try to fuck Orym

Dorian: ............... Talk about that later.

*Liam grinning like a dork*

GUYS

"-this could be our last time

Should we

Send a message to Zhudanna?"

"oh"

Man all these talks. Ash asking about Opal. Talking about trying to be a better person

Oof

I need Ashton to stop being quite so damn relatable - ow

Heeerree they coommeeee~~~

The Hells being intoxicated for this meeting is fucking hilarious and so on brand and the Nein are gonna love it

OH SHIT OKAY OKAY WE'RE DOING IT LIKE THIS HUH ONLY FUCK I MISSED THEM

"that one's floating"

Veth and a minotaur oh no

OH MY GOD I AM DYONG

Pirate Jester!!!

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOO

Matt is so happy for everyone else to be loosing their mind

Also

I finally was able to see Sam's cup

Goodnight and

Is it Thursday yet???

Bells hells Episode 110! Ooookay

Oh. Oh no. Samuel. Why

Oh it's worse. Oh boy. Kitten!Dani loving on Marisha is precious though, and I believe Sam's kids as well? Adorable but terrible

(I missed Marisha's ad bc internet panic)

Ooohhh I want all of the novelllssss aaaaahhh

Okay okay let's gooo

That Raven Queen lore drop last ep thoooo

Black and white and red all over 😂

Fair point Liev'tel, fair point

Makes sense. Dorian saw Opal in the Hell Catch, I wonder if Aimee will make an appearance at some point

What would graffiti in Vasselheim even look like?

I do think there would be some panic or something if that memory had already been broadcast though

"For the hell of it" MATTHEW

KIKIIIII SHES GETTING THE GANG BACK TOGETHER I AM EXCITED

SAMUEL I SAW THAT FACE. I wonder where the little bastard is though

Ooooohh good idea (I think?) Ash

Bells hells gonna go vibe with the Ashari??? Fuck yeah let's go yall.

I wonder what the Ashari in general would think of the titan shard holders, and Fearne being all fiery in general (wildfire druid)

I mean valid Dorian, yall have talked to 3 gods and gotten 3 very different answers. But yeah she's also my favorite but the Wildmother comes close

Man. No matter how this goes the leylines are fucked up something major. Magical storms?? Yikes

Oh no, hopefully Ludinus is not catching on to Liliana

Xandis!!!! Oh man I didn't even recognize who they were at first

🤣

Keybane?? Oooo Kiki gave them a title, sweet

I just live the way Xandis speaks it's so fun

"it sounds like a euphemism. It isn't."

Awwwuuhh Xandis remembered Letters 🥺

"Smiley day to you too" 😭

It makes sense to want opinions from all sides of the board, Fearnie, but yeah no Betrayers in the city. I would definitely be curious to see what Asmodeus or any of the others would say, after what he said to Braius last time

Also very interested with Braius wanting to go to the Platinum Dragon, instead of Asmodeus

Ashton is making some good points though I only kind of agree about the nature of the Betrayers and stuff.

Oh boy, Orym is right though. I mean, this isn't the time to leave things unsaid either

(looking at you, Orym,,, Dorian,,,)

You can be optimistic but also realistic - Hope we win (whatever the fuck that even means) and also know that this could be the end of you or your friends

"no I'll drag you it'll be fun" guuuuuyyyysssss

I was so expecting Sam to not have the fucking spell and just neigh at the damn horse 🤣

Oh well shit okay yeah he's probably like a celestial not a beast huh

They sent spies to the moon. I wonder who

Oh boy the Hells will be traveling with the Nein for a bit? That should be interesting

I'm so worried about Orym. Well, all of them, but especially him. He's keeping so much to himself and I know first hand how bad that can be.

Chet. I cannot. He has a little bit of a point but like. Don't be such a greedy little shit.

Ooooohh let's get Fearnie to talk to Cerkonos yesss

Travis is being such a little shit

Oooo Doriiiaaaaaan

Okay Robbie,,, oh my god

I love shopping trips for the little peeks we get into the day to day of the place

I'm not sure if I like the vibes I'm getting from this guy. It's amusing he's just sus af and that's before we knew he had forgery stuff

More whispersss damn yall

Oh no guys no don't fuck with the fusaka

I can't

That totally wasn't his shop they convinced me

Awwwww Dorian that's so sweet. He's so selfless

I love him so much

Hmm I wonder if they're gonna learn anything from the titan. Interesting

Break! I have a Duoling lesson to do, lol see yall after!

[wayward-dreamer]

The Right Direction

AO3 Link: Read Here

Square Filled: Dog walker!Jensen

Pairing: Dog walker!Jensen x Female!Dog walker!Reader

Word count: 2,839 (Wow! I wrote something under 5K lol!)

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes the wrong direction can turn out to be the right one.

Warnings: Some swearing, a bunch of cute dogs, fluff.

Created for @spnaubingo

A/N: This is written for @downanddirtydean‘s 500 followers challenge! Prompt is in bold. I hope you like it twin!! Thank you @deanwanddamons​ for being a beta on this! As always, I’d love to hear what you all think! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​ 

A wet nose and soft fur were the first things she felt on her hand every morning. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, a groan leaving her as they adjusted to the light in the room. She felt the bed shift and heard the sound of a collar shaking, her smile growing as the furry ball landed in her lap. She stroked her little Corgi’s fluffy hair, kissing the top of his head.

“Morning, Ringo.” She planted another kiss on his head, her hands alternating between squishing his face and running over his light brown and white fluffy coat. “Someone hungry?”

Ringo licked his lips, signalling he was more than ready for breakfast.

“Alright, come on,” she muttered as she gently dropped him down on the floor of her bedroom.

Y/N got up from her bed, laughing as Ringo scurried out of the door ahead of her, stopping to wait impatiently near his bowl. His round behind wiggled, excited to be receiving his breakfast as Y/N picked up the bag of dog food, dropping some into the metal bowl.

“Stay,” she commanded, watching his innocent brown eyes look up at her. Waiting for a few seconds, she smiled. “Eat.”

Ringo gave his lips another lick, bending down and gobbling up a few pieces of dry food at a time. She smiled at him and then went about getting ready for the morning, quickly changing into her sweatpants and oversized sweater, throwing her hair up in a messy bun. By the time she was ready, Ringo was finished eating.

“Alright, shall we go?” she said, bending down in front of him and petting under his chin. She clipped his leash onto his collar, patting him at the same time. “Now, I’m trusting you to be good with the other dogs, so you better listen to me. Okay?”

Ringo gave her a little whine, causing her to lift an eyebrow. “Ringo.”

His paws started to tap excitedly against the floorboards, making Y/N give him a smile. “Good boy,” she said, scratching behind his head and standing up.

She quickly grabbed her keys, phone and wallet, heading out the door of her apartment, and walking down a few flights of stairs, Ringo in tow. She knocked on the door of an apartment, smiling as Mrs. Morris greeted her. She held the leash of her 6-year-old Border Collie, Betty, in her hand and smiled at her.

“Morning, Y/N. How are you?” she asked, as Betty’s tail wagged excitedly when she saw Ringo, more than ready for her walk.

“I’m great, Mrs. Morris. How are you?”

“Oh, you know, can’t complain,” the older woman said, handing her the leash. “Betty’s a little too excited this morning.”

Y/N patted Betty a few times, shaking her head. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

With a goodbye, she walked Betty and Ringo down the last two flights of stairs, and out onto the sidewalk. She held onto the leashes, enjoying the sun but there was as a slight chill against her face on the bright autumn morning. They walked for about ten minutes, picking up more dogs along the way. A Bulldog, a Pomeranian and a Chihuahua. Y/N walked them into the dog park, knowing how much they loved to run around and play with each other. They were all from the same neighborhood and socially used to each other, making her job much easier. However, Y/N was in desperate need of caffeine, having forgone a cup at home to get the dogs. Making a quick stop at a vendor, she paid for her steaming cup of black coffee and continued to walk them all down the path in the park, trying to find a clear spot to sit down and let them run around.

Y/N kept the dogs in front of her, all of their leashes in one hand, and her drink in the other, trying to get away from unfamiliar pets they hadn’t interacted with yet. As she smiled down at her fur friends for the morning, she basked in the peacefulness of the walk.

Suddenly, Y/N screamed as she collided with another dog walker, a man completely distracted with his phone and not watching what the German Shepherd and Golden Retriever he was walking were doing. Her shoulder got knocked backwards, her arm coming up and spilling her piping hot coffee all down the front of her sweater. She screamed again as the liquid seeped through the material, making contact with  her skin. Thankfully, the sweater she was wearing was thick and she didn’t get severely burnt by the hot beverage.

“Oh my god! I am so, so sorry!” the man apologized, steadying the dog’s leash as he stashed his phone away.

“Sorry?! Watch where you’re going next time, you asshole!” she yelled, using her free hand to wipe the front of her sweater with her sleeve. She hadn’t even looked up at the man yet, focusing on cleaning herself. Her ever loyal companion, Ringo growled at the other dogs, who were slightly bigger than him and were growling back.

“Ringo, it’s okay,” Y/N said, calmly as she pulled lightly on all the leashes, moving the animals  behind her legs. They were all starting to bark, getting riled up by the man’s German Shepherd and Golden Retriever.

“I really am sorry,” the man said, as he pulled the dog he was walking back, “He gets really excited when he comes here, and I was trying to message someone-”

“Well maybe don’t do that,” she grumbled, soaking up the coffee with her sleeve as best as she could. She finally looked up, her eyes blinking as she took in the guy who bumped into her. He was incredibly gorgeous, with green eyes that looked guilty and soft and plump lips that he was biting into. She looked like an absolute mess in her casual attire, and here he was, towering over her and looking like a male model in a dog park.

“Please let me buy you another,” he said, sheepishly as he pointed to her shirt.

She shook her head, a little stunned by the good-looking man in front of her. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“I feel terrible,” he muttered, frowning as he gestured to the German Shepherd “He pulled suddenly while I was texting. It’s no excuse, I know, but he must’ve gotten excited when he saw your dogs.”

“It’s really okay,” Y/N reassured him. She felt awful for yelling at him now that she saw how apologetic he was, “They’re not mine. I’m a dog walker. Only the Corgi belongs to me.”

“I am too, but this guy is mine,” he smiled, gesturing to the German Shepherd next to him, who was now sitting and looking up at Y/N. “His name’s Jagger.”

“Jagger? As in Mick?” she asked, chuckling.

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling. He patted the top of the Golden Retriever’s head, smiling. “This is Astro. Neighbor’s kid is a big Jetsons fan.”

Y/N laughed, gesturing to her best friend in the whole world, “This is Ringo.”

“As in Starr?” he asked, smirking.

She laughed again, nodding. “Yeah. The Border is Betty, the Bulldog is Jackson, the Pom is Mimi, and the Chihuahua is Coco.”

“Ringo and Jagger… we sure know how to pick some good names,” he said, smiling at her.

“Yeah,” she agreed, smiling back at him. “Anyway, I should get going.”

“I really feel awful about this,” he muttered, frowning. “Can I make it up to you some time?”

She bit her lip, smiling as she shrugged. “We’ll see.” She would have to think about it, considering they had just met, and it wasn’t exactly the greatest first meeting.

“I’m Jensen, by the way.” He offered his hand, smiling softly at her. She took it in hers and felt the butterflies in her stomach begin to flutter.

“Y/N,” she said, smiling back at him. She looked down when she felt a wet nose against her hand, seeing Jagger nudging at her hand. She crouched down and patted him down, scratching behind his ears. The dogs tried to move around her to get to him, but she kept nudging them away, lightly. He whined when she stood up, pulling on his leash as he tried to follow her.

“Jagger, no. We gotta go, man,” Jensen told the dog, steering him in the other direction with Astro in tow.

With one last look at the man who she was totally caught off guard by, Y/N led the dogs away, unfortunately having to cut their walk short.  Jensen smiled as he turned and watched her walk away, hoping that he would see her again. He felt terrible and just hoped he had another shot to get to talk to Y/N. He had seen her from across the park before the collision happened. She was beautiful and despite the horrible circumstance, the moment their eyes met he knew he was done for.

They always say dogs have the best instinct about people, and Jensen was happy to know that Y/N was a good person according to Jagger’s eagerness to go with her. He just hoped there would be no hot coffee in the way of him getting to talk to her the next time he saw her.

A few days had passed since the incident in the park. Y/N was back there again, this time only with Ringo, and it was just after lunch. She handed in her article for the week, meeting her deadline a day early and decided to take her fluff ball for a run around in the dog park once she had submitted the article to her editor. She laughed as he ran circles around her on the grass, a blur of brown and white fur. As he continued to run, Y/N’s attention was suddenly taken away from him, as she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She turned and smiled, seeing the handsome dog walker who bumped into her a few days ago, a white cup in one hand, the leash to his beautiful German Shepherd in the other.

“A peace offering?” he stated.

“You didn’t have to,” she said, shaking her head.

He held out the cup insistently, smiling when she took it. “Yes, I did.”

She held her palm out, allowing the dog to come near her. The animal sniffed her a few times and licked her hand.  Y/N instantly moved her hand behind his ears to pet him. “He’s gorgeous.” As is his owner she thought to herself as she looked at Jensen, “How old is he?”

“He’s four,” Jensen told her, smirking. “Still acts like a puppy sometimes, though.”

“Aren’t they always a puppy no matter how big they get?” she asked, chuckling. Jagger started nudging against Y/N, wanting her to play with him. Jensen smiled, glad that his dog approved of her.

“Yeah,” he nodded, and looked down as Ringo came running to her, interested to see who her new friend was. Ringo hopped excitedly towards Jagger, not intimidated by the size difference between them at all.

“Hey buddy, you remember Jagger?” she asked, smiling brightly. She crouched down, calming him slightly as Jagger began to growl. Jensen got down to the dog’s level, holding him back slightly.

“Hey, behave,” Jensen commanded.

Comforting both of the dogs, Jensen let Jagger move forward a little first. He sniffed Ringo as Y/N let him go slightly too, to do the same. They tried to figure each other out, and one lick from Jagger had Ringo running off, turning to see if he would follow. Jensen let him off the leash, watching as he ran off, both of them play- fighting as they rolled over on the grass. Y/N and Jensen stood back, watching their dogs become fast friends.

“He doesn’t take to small dogs so quickly,” Jensen remarked as he watched his German Shepherd play with the small Corgi.

“Ringo loves every dog he comes across,” Y/N said, smiling as she watched them play. “So, I’m glad he found another friend.”

“Me too,” he muttered, smiling. “Jagger’s been lonely. I keep thinking I should get another one just so he doesn’t feel it anymore.”

“Well, until you do… he’s welcome to play with Ringo,” she stated, smiling at the gorgeous man next to her. The butterflies had returned, and she was finding it hard to keep her cool around him.

“Thanks.” Jensen smiled back at her, trying not to hold eye contact with her for longer than necessary, suddenly nervous to be near to her again.

After that afternoon, Jensen and Y/N had a standing meeting every Thursday afternoon in the dog park. As Jagger and Ringo played together, Y/N and Jensen would talk about everything they could before the dogs exhausted themselves. They discussed how they got the dogs, what they did for a living apart from dog walking (Jensen told her he worked at a brewery and Y/N told him she wrote for the paper), their favourite movies, books, music and more. By the fourth meeting, Y/N was hoping that he would ask her out on an official date. She knew she couldn’t be the only one feeling an attraction between them and wished more than anything that he would pluck up the courage and ask her. Maybe she would have to if he didn’t, but that was something she had never done before.

On the day of their usual meeting, Y/N and Jensen strolled the length of the park, walking Jagger and Ringo side by side. Every now and then, they would turn and smile at each other, as Jensen kept telling himself to open his mouth and ask her out on a date. Letting the dogs off their leashes, the owners watched on as they did every week, the dogs now absolute best friends. A brown leaf fell from the tree branch above Jensen and Y/N, landing on her nose and getting stuck there. Jensen laughed as he leaned over, using his thumb and forefinger to remove it.

“Thanks,” she whispered, looking up at him. Their bodies were close, both of them in slightly warmer clothes now that the weather was turning.

“No problem,” he mumbled, smiling. He looked out ahead at the park, worrying his lip as he thought about how to approach the subject of asking her on a date. “Okay, so…”

“What’s up?” she asked,  her stomach fluttering at the thought that the moment had finally arrived.

“I, uh… I really like you, Y/N,” he told her, his smile becoming wider as he turned to her.

“I really like you too, Jensen,” she said, beaming up at him.

He sighed in relief, nodding. “Okay, so then… I would love to- I mean that is if you want to, I really want to take you on a non-dog park date.” Dear Lord, this isn’t going well he told himself as he cringed at his bad attempt to ask her out.

“You know…” She laughed as she looked into his eyes. “Must be hard with your sense of direction. Never being able to find your way to a decent pick-up line.”

Jensen chuckled nervously, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope,” she said, smiling as she winked.

A moment passed as they continued to look at each other. Jensen backtracked, a little more confident this time.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at her. “Y/N, would you like to go out for dinner with me?”

She smiled up at him, finding him so adorable in that moment. “Yes.”

The first date turned into a second. The second into a third. They would meet up in the dog park, some days with Jagger and Ringo, and others with all the others they would walk on a regular basis. With huddles of dogs of different breeds, they walked closer and closer to each other, stealing kisses and loving looks.

Dates and dog walking turned into getting down on one knee, the ring box clipped to Ringo’s collar as Jensen asked Y/N if she wanted to spend her life with him, with Jagger in tow.

They married in a small ceremony, with Jagger and Ringo at their feet, more than happy to be best fur friends forever.

And eventually… the news of an addition to their little family came, with Jensen and Y/N completely over the moon with the dogs getting a human brother or sister.

Y/N sat on the couch, smiling as she patted Jagger and Ringo’s heads, both of them sitting on either side of her, their noses close to her growing belly. Jensen walked in, a bowl of popcorn in his hand, settling into the couch next her, putting Ringo’s body over his legs. Y/N turned to him and leaned in, kissing his lips softly as he turned to her.

They say that dogs have great instinct.

And for that, Jensen and Y/N would always be grateful to have two fur companions that brought them into each other’s lives.

-x-

If you’re crossed out, Tumblr won’t let me tag you :(

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[thetomorrowshow]

unless you take your army back ch. 5

First  -  Previous  -  Next  -  Read on AO3!

yo once again giving you guys a chapter how’s everyone doing? My posting dates will never again be on tuesday lol expect wednesdays or fridays when possible <3

anyways other business if you see an A/N in here somewhere (it’ll be between brackets) lmk and I’ll edit it out

Enjoy :)

cw: food, eating disorders, discussion of injuries

~

Jack didn’t leave to sell papes the next morning, instead bringing a cup of coffee and some porridge to Crutchie, then settling in beside him with a real fancy sketchbook and a charcoal pencil.

The coffee wasn’t that great, but Crutchie drank it all, hoping the energy would distract him from the uncomfortable tightness of his fresh bandages. Only one of the cuts that had split open was one that had needed stitches (Katherine had snipped the thread and pulled it out three days ago), but they would all probably scar. At least he already liked to wear long shirts and pants.

The porridge was fine, but rich. After about four bites, Crutchie rested the bowl on the windowsill. Just weeks ago, he would’ve been able to scarf down twice that amount in a matter of minutes, but now he could barely handle eating enough to feed a baby. He was sure he’d get better faster if he’d just eat more, but he just--couldn’t.

This wasn’t even the first time Crutchie had seen kids have trouble eating. At least half the newsies who did a stint in the Refuge came back uneasy around food, too accustomed to there being too little to go around. A lot of food was a trick, just the right amount was too much to stomach, and the little bit that they felt they needed wasn’t enough to keep them going.

So Crutchie knew that what he was going through with his food aversion was normal--expected, even. The frustrating problem was that Crutchie knew how to fix it. He had seen the others go through this, had watched Jack and Race and Specs help others, had even guided Tommy Boy through recovery himself just a few months ago. He knew the signs, he knew how to work through it, and yet he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t snap himself out of it.

Just the thought of food made him queasy, scared, uncertain of what was to come. When the guards brought food, it meant the respite was over. It meant scraps shoved down his throat as quickly as possible, followed by a day of grueling, pointless work with no breaks. He didn’t have the time to finish this bowl of porridge. More than a few bites and he was going to be tardy, the guards were going to beat him and he would fall and he wouldn't be able to get back up, not again not again not again--

“Crutchie, you gonna finish that?”

Crutchie looked up from his lap to see Jack, concern creasing his brow. He shrugged, not sure if he could even pretend to smile. “I didn’t see you eat, wanted to save some for you.” He didn’t need anyone’s help. He knew how to handle this.

Jack frowned. “Nah, I ate on the way up, nicked a bun. Is there some . . . other . . . reason?”

Stupid Jack Kelly and his ‘subtle’ prodding. Crutchie stretched his arms out a bit, affecting a casual look. A bandage rubbed against a raw patch of his chest, but instead of burning, it . . . itched.

That meant he was starting to get better, right? Or was it infected or something? Whatever it meant, it was a good excuse.

“Not really, just been itchin’ all mornin’, so I ain't all that hungry,” he explained, scratching his stomach for emphasis. “Bit bothering, y’know?”

He was sure he didn’t quite have Jack convinced, but it was enough for him to drop the matter. After all, Jack was under the impression that Crutchie had eaten a whole apple the morning before, and he’d been fairly good at emptying bowls of soup all week (not necessarily into his mouth, but Jack didn’t need to know that).

After a moment’s hesitation, Jack smiled. “Hey, itchy, huh?” He lightly punched Crutchie’s knee, which also didn’t hurt like he expected. “That’s good, means stuff is startin’ ta close up and heal.”

Crutchie nodded, feeling something in his chest try to jump excitedly. Even after falling so badly last night, he was getting better. That meant that maybe soon, he could be right back out there, hawking headlines and getting enough pity from his regulars and strangers to make twice the amount he usually did.

Thinking of it-- “Jack, why ain’t you out sellin’?”

Jack looked away--ashamed? Guilty? What? Had he gotten in trouble with the bulls again already? Jack muttered something, then buried his face in his new sketchbook, the tips of his ears burning red.

“That ain’t gonna cut it,” Crutchie said incredulously. “Who d’ya think I am, Race? I ain’t distracted that easy.”

Jack huffed, but didn’t drop his sketchbook. In a barely audible voice, he said very quickly “I soaked the Delanceys yesterday and the fellas think I oughtta stay away from ‘em and maybe take a day off ta give ‘em time ta forget about it.”

Okay, but attacking the Delanceys was something Jack did on a weekly basis. The Delanceys weren’t bright enough to carry a grudge overnight, and they were in a constant state of goading Jack, so what was different about this time?

Then Crutchie remembered their argument last night, what Jack and Davey had told him about how Oscar and Morris had been talking.

“Have they, uh,” Crutchie started, quiet, “been talking about . . . uh, ‘bout me . . . all week?”

Jack stiffened from behind his sketchbook, but nodded jerkily. “Tha’s what Specs said, anyhow.”

“Right.” Crutchie swallowed, looking away out the window. Buttons was out there, looped around a fire escape, calling something through cupped hands. The Delanceys were somewhere out there too, and could be talking about him that very moment, maybe even making plans to come after him. There was no way he could stop them, no way anyone could stop them. After all, Jack couldn’t be here all the time, and Kloppman was old, wiry but feeble compared to Oscar and Morris. They could take the man down in no time, then be up here and Crutchie would have nowhere to go and no way to escape.

Crutchie was suddenly very glad that Jack was here.

There were a few moments of silence, during which Crutchie continued to watch Buttons. His grin was visible even from this distance, growing wider any time he managed to sell a paper or two. Buttons had been having trouble selling lately--he was a little timid, too shy when it counts--so it was nice to see him having some success.

The lady talking to him now seemed nice, by the way Buttons was nodding and had fully disentangled himself from the fire escape to converse with her. The lady turned slightly, her face visible under her sun hat, and--hey! That was one of Crutchie’s regulars! She bought a paper on her way to visit her mother-in-law every other day, and always passed Crutchie’s selling spot on purpose. It was nice to see her again, almost . . . sentimental. Crutchie never thought he would feel almost misty-eyed over some lady whom he briefly interacted with a handful of times a week, but here he was. More than miss her, he missed being out there, he supposed.

“Hey, Crutch?”

Crutchie startled out of his thoughts. The woman was no longer there, Buttons once again attaching himself to the fire escape. Jack was watching him, a carefully disguised look of something on his face. Crutchie raised his eyebrows.

“Uh, so, I missed a union thing, what with last night,” Jack said. “So I’m gonna hafta do it today sometime. That cool with you?”

“What sorta thing?” Crutchie asked suspiciously. If it involved reporters and pictures and all that, Crutchie was not going to allow it to happen in here.

Not that you could stop it, a nasty voice in the back of his mind whispered, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. Jack could do anything to you right now. He was pretty angry last night, after all. You know what anger leads to.

Crutchie swallowed drily. He didn’t need to think about that.

“Oh, just a guy I gotta meet with,” Jack said, far too casually. He made a show of scratching his head. “He might bring another couple o’ fellas with him, so I’s just . . . lettin’ you know.”

Okay, so this wasn’t something he could stop. Great. That calmed him down so much. Crutchie gripped the blanket over him tightly, trying to not show that his hands had begun to tremble. He was fine, he didn’t need Jack getting all worried over nothing. It was just some . . . unknown guy. With bodyguards. Coming into the room to have a discussion with Jack.

“Hey. Hey.”

Crutchie pulled himself from his spiral to see Jack laying his hands over his. “It’s okay,” Jack said seriously. “I can chat with ‘em in another room, or outside. You don’t oughtta have guys in here that you ain’t know.”

Crutchie released his grip, more to assuage Jack than his nerves. He nodded, not sure what he was even expected to say. What if a fight broke out? And Jack was all alone, against three or four guys? He couldn’t let Jack be alone.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Crutchie said hoarsely. Wow, he needed something to drink. He hadn’t noticed his throat drying up. “I uh, I can be your second?”

The words were barely out of his mouth before he regretted them. Of course Jack didn’t want him as his second! He was just some stupid, useless, injured cripple, and Jackhad to still be mad at him for last night. He’d want Davey there, probably--Davey was one of the union heads too, right? And Davey was so good at talking things through and being all smart. All Crutchie could do was make people laugh or feel bad for him--great for selling papes and living on the street, terrible for union business.

“Would ya?” Jack asked. He almost looked a little bit relieved, which took Crutchie aback. “You know how I can get. It’s--it’s nice, havin’ somebody backin’ me up. ‘Specially you, Crutch, you’s real good at talkin’ to folks.”

The air left Crutchie’s lungs. Was he? He was pretty good at selling to just about anyone. Jack used to joke that he would be able to sell a pape to Pulitzer himself for a dollar, without the man even realizing it was his own paper or too high a price. Jack would say that to just about anyone who would listen, actually.

How had Crutchie forgotten that?

“Who’s these folks, then?” Crutchie asked, shifting a bit so that his head was almost level with Jack’s. He liked to think that he was pretty accustomed to the broken ribs at this point--they hurt, but he could now sit up without even breathing heavy. After the week he’d had, Crutchie counted that as a win.

Jack’s carefully casual air was back, clear in the stiff lines of his body and the forced half-grin on his lips. “Just some guys who got a say in newsie union stuff, y’know? From one o’ the other turfs.”

That made sense, actually. The Manhattan newsies weren’t the only ones in the union, after all. In fact, if what Elmer had excitedly told him was true, Davey had shook hands with Spot Conlon and led him straight to Pulitzer’s office, after Conlon had spoken at Davey’s rally--

Oh.

Oh no.

“You’s bringin’ Spot Conlon to the place we sleep?!”

“It was--”

“No no no, lemme get this straight,” Crutchie said, incredulous. “Spot Conlon, leader of the Brooklyn borough, is comin’ here. To Manhattan’s lodging house. Now I know that Brooklyn joined the strike, but there is no way we’s become friends with Brooklyn in the two weeks I ain’t been around, and ya don’t show allies where ya sleep.”

“They already knows where we sleep, there’s a huge sign on the buildin’!” Jack shot back. He dropped his work and gestured widely. “Manhattan newsboys lodgin’ house, in big ol’ letters, smack on the front! Was it s’posed ta be a secret? Or do ya think they just can’t read?”

“It’s the principle of the matter,” Crutchie replied stubbornly. “Ya don’t invite them into your home, you hold ‘em at arm’s length for when they in’vitably scab!”

“Well, that ain’t no way ta treat your allies,” a voice said from the doorway.

Crutchie and Jack both looked up to see the man himself, an unimpressed Spot Conlon, with two lackeys--and also Racetrack. Race waved casually.

“Hey Jack, hey Crutch!” Race said. “Spot’s here ta meet with ya.”

Jack strode across the room, spat and shook with Spot, anxiously adjusting his hat with his other hand. “Nice ta see ya, Conlon,” he said, the geniality in his voice a stark contrast from his heated arguing moments before. Crutchie snorted. Jack shot him a glare.

“So, what’s sayin’ we get straight ta business, Kelly?” Spot suggested, walking further into the room without invitation. Race tipped his hat at them all, then stuck his cigar in his mouth and took off. “This here’s Hotshot, and the other’s Sharpshooter,” Spot threw out, gesturing at the two guys with him. They each nodded in turn.

“Right,” Jack said, “This is Crutchie, he’s my second.”

Spot turned a piercing gaze on Crutchie. Crutchie felt his face heat up as Spot’s sharp eyes took in the patchwork of yellow-brown bruises on his face and throat, the scabbed-over gash on his temple, the splint wrapping his left arm. Finally, he turned away to face Jack.

“You met with Joe of late?” Spot asked. Jack nodded.

“Saw ‘im yesterday. No complaints from his side--he’s sayin’ they’s already noticed circulation goin’ up. You’s been meetin’ with the Journal and the Sun, yeah?”

Spot gave an affirmative nod. “We got ‘em where we want ‘em,” he said with a chuckle. Crutchie waited for him to elaborate. He did not.

Jack seemed sort of disconcerted--Crutchie wondered if Spot could tell. This was all happening so suddenly. Moments ago, Crutchie hadn’t even known anyone was coming. Now there were three Brooklyn newsies standing over his bed, and he couldn’t do anything to defend himself or make them leave. Brooklyn was always angry, always jeering, doing nothing to strengthen the tentative peace they had come to a few months ago.  Really, Crutchie had good reason to be wary. Brooklyn newsies had more than once kicked his crutch out from under him.

Spot and Jack were talking about something, but Crutchie couldn’t really pay attention to them. The one called Sharpshooter was staring him down, in a way that said both I’m-trying-to-intimidate-you and I-don’t-need-to-intimidate-you-weakling. Hotshot was doing the exact same thing to Jack, but Jack seemed unbothered. Crutchie was pretty sure he wasn’t pulling that off near as well. He hadn’t been stared at like that--like he was a piece of dirt that stubbornly remained as you scrubbed at a window--since he’d been . . . there. The Refuge.

Crutchie turned his gaze to the window. Buttons was out of sight, the fire escape likely blazing hot in the sun. There weren’t very many people visible whatsoever--it was stifling out, which was probably why Brooklyn was already here. Selling would have to be done in a very particular fashion today--morning, at the coolest, when everyone was headed for work, then around the lunch hours, then the last few in the evening. Crutchie felt bad for the likely sunburned newsies, frantically trying to sell all their papes in those short windows of time, clothes sticking to them with sweat and the hot air weighing them down.

“Hey, Crutch?”

Crutchie looked back to the conversation. Jack was watching him expectantly, as was Spot. Crutchie tried to not look clueless--he had really been zoning out, hadn’t he? How much time had passed? Why was everyone looking at him?

“D’you mind answerin’ any questions Spot has? I’m gettin’ us all some water.”

Crutchie nodded. It couldn’t be that hard, right? He had totally lost track of the conversation, but he knew a fair bit about what had happened and what was going to happen with the union, mostly from Jack rambling in the afternoons when the silence became too much for one of them.

“So,” Spot said brusquely as soon as the door closed behind Jack. “All that from the strike?”

Crutchie blinked. All what? He needed a bit more context. He should’ve been listening. He opened his mouth to ask, then saw Spot vaguely waving at his body. Oh.

“Nah,” Crutchie mumbled, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “Some of it, yeah. Mostly the Refuge, though.”

Spot sucked a breath in through his teeth, and Hotshot turned away. “Looks like you was lucky to make it out alive.”

“Oh, yeah,” Crutchie said bitterly. He almost laughed. “By the end there I was ’lucinatin’ so bad I thought I’d been buried already. Probably I was hours from bein’ gone forever.”

Silence. He’d made it awkward, hadn’t he? Crutchie tried to come up with some useful purpose for Spot Conlon to know this, like maybe he’d get pity or sympathy or something and the Brooklyn newsies would leave him alone, but it honestly sounded worse than Conlon straight up hating him. Crutchie was tired of being pitied. He was tired of being a charity case.

“How long?” That was Sharpshooter, his voice pitched a lot higher than Crutchie expected. It didn’t quite match his height and dark eyes.“Was you there, I means.”

“A week, I think. It’s sorta blurry.”

Spot whistled. “Snyder musta had it out for ya. All that in just a week? I’s had boys in there for months come out lookin’ better.”

Again, Crutchie almost laughed. “Everybody has it out for the crip,” he said bluntly, his eyes on his hands as he twisted the blanket between his fingers. “Throw in my personal connection ta Jack Kelly union leader, and a week is a long time ta be lastin’.”

Crutchie looked up. Spot was giving him a strange look--it wasn't pity, like Crutchie expected. It wasn’t disgust. It wasn’t even shock that he was still alive. It was--he didn’t know. And then it was gone.

“Crutchie, right?” Spot asked, glancing out a window aloofly. Crutchie nodded. “You’s a good kid. If you ever finds you in some sorta trouble . . . you’s welcome in Brooklyn.”

What?

He understood that they were allies, but allies did not mean that anyone from either turf was allowed to just go wandering over. The only person who had ever been allowed to was Race, who sold in Brooklyn--why, Crutchie didn’t know. Crutchie didn’t think anyone knew. There were plenty of good spots in Manhattan--why did Race trek all the way to a hostile turf just to sell papes? The point was, this wasn’t something that just happened. Ever. Brooklyn and Manhattan had been on bad terms for as long as Crutchie had been a newsie, and before that as far as anyone could remember.

Crutchie didn’t have much more time to think about it, though, as Jack reentered the room, balancing three glasses of water carelessly enough that it made Crutchie tense up, as if ready to catch one when it dropped. One he handed to Spot, one to Crutchie, and the last to Hotshot. Sharpshooter rolled his eyes and swiped it, half-draining the glass before handing it back.

“Crutchie clear anything up?” Jack asked. Spot continued to stare at Crutchie, a slight crease between his brows.

“Yeah, a few things,” Spot answered absently. “A few.”

The discussions continued for another ten minutes or so, Jack eventually convincing Spot that they were not currently trying to lower the price even further (“I’ve already got Bill down ta fifty-two per hundred, why should I stop?”), and got him to agree to work closely with Davey when Jack wasn’t available. That seemed to be all they could resolve for the time being without attacking each other, which was probably the most that had ever been done by a Manhattan newsie and a Brooklyn newsie working together. When Spot went to leave, though, he turned to Crutchie.

“Ol’ Jack ever oversteps, ya know where ta find us,” he said with a firm nod. “Any guy from Brooklyn will bring ya to me, jus’ say the word.” With that, he was gone, Sharpshooter and Hotshot marching after him.

Jack froze, halfway to gathering the two glasses from where they’d been set on the floor, his mouth agape. “Wh--” he tried. Crutchie could have laughed. He didn’t. But he could’ve. “Did Spot Conlon jus’--” he whipped around to stare at Crutchie. “What’d you talk about?” he demanded. “How’d ya get Spot Conlon ta make you an honorary Brooklyn boy?”

Crutchie shrugged. He wasn’t quite sure what had passed between them himself, and he also wasn’t sure that he wanted to know. It wasn’t like he’d done anything. Spot barely knew who he was. The first time they met had been today.

“W-well, if you isn’t gonna eat that, hand it to me.”

The change in subject took Crutchie by surprise, but he passed the partly-eaten bowl of porridge to Jack, who gave him one last suspicious glance before leaving the room.

Crutchie hated being alone these days--the only things worth doing were sleeping and practicing walking. The second one was off the table after yesterday, and he was sick of sleeping, but when there was nobody around there was nothing to do but think. Nothing to do but fall deeper and deeper into a dark chasm that yawned open in his mind. Nothing to do but slowly become more and more paranoid. . . .

He wished he had asked Jack for some more water before he left. Not that Jack wasn’t coming back or anything, it just would’ve been nice to not force him to make another trip.

When Jack returned some ten minutes later, though, he was not alone. Holding his hand was Katherine, laughing at something Jack had said before they entered the room. Crutchie shrunk away. He didn’t want to see Katherine--she would try to pay for a doctor to come see him or insist on checking each of his wounds or something equally mortifying.

“Look who turned up!” Jack said brightly, and Crutchie tried not to frown too obviously.

“Hi, Katherine,” he said politely. “How’re you?”

“Oh, Crutchie, you look so much better!” Katherine exclaimed. Crutchie examined her face carefully. Mostly the truth, but something in her eyes told him that she was still worried about him. “Look at you, sitting up and everything!” a pause. “Have you, um, been eating well?”

There it was. Crutchie hadn’t seen himself in the mirror in a while--every time someone carried him to the washroom, he’d resolutely avoided it. He knew that his face was still multicolored from the various stages of healing his bruises were in, but he hadn’t even thought that he might look malnourished. Elmer’s bracelet was pretty loose on his wrist, now that he was thinking about it. His unwrapped elbow practically jutted out of his skin.

Great. He’d spent a week in the Refuge and had come out looking like the most pitiful creature ever. He was so weak--it had been such a short amount of time! And now he’d been in bed for just as long, when he should’ve been recovered by now!

“Been workin’ on it,” Crutchie managed, trying not to let his thoughts show too obviously. “Hard ta get back up ta where it’s s’posed ta be, y’know?”

“Yeah, he’s been eating less,” Jack added. “It happens, but he’s been tryin’ ta eat most everything I bring him.”

Crutchie resolutely did not blush or look away. There was no reason for Katherine to believe anything to the contrary. Still, she and Jack watched him carefully for a few moments, then exchanged a look. Was he supposed to say something?

“Jack said there was quite the scare last night,” continued Katherine. “Are you feeling okay after your fall?”

Crutchie nodded. He wasn’t lying, actually. He did feel better than he had all week, even if all of his injuries felt raw from falling. Nothing was hazy anymore, nor particularly sharp. It felt almost normal, if the pain could be ignored. He was getting better.

“Why’re you here, Kath?”

Katherine’s smile strained. “Can’t a girl check up on her best friend?”

Crutchie leveled a stare of his own at her. This was the first he’d heard of being best friends. She had to have some sort of ulterior motive--a doctor or a medicine or something stupid like that. He hated to think it, but couldn’t she just leave him alone?

“Okay, I came--of my own volition, by the way--to ask you if you’d be willing to be seen by my family doctor--”

“Nope, thanks,” Crutchie said loudly, glaring hard enough to bore a hole in Katherine’s head. “As you can see, I’s healin’ up just fine.”

“It wouldn’t cost anything, my father--”

“I won’t be botherin’ your father, if it’s all the same ta you,” Crutchie retorted. “Nor no one. I’m gonna be out there sellin’ again soon, an’ if I decides I need a doctor, I’ll save up the cost myself and see ‘im when I feel like it.”

Katherine and Jack exchanged another look, one that told Crutchie they thought he was being stubborn. And so what if he was? Stubbornness had kept him alive countless times. His particular brand of stubborn had been considered both adorable and inspiring in the past. Maybe he was being annoying, but so what? Was it why they wouldn’t listen to him? Did acting annoying really mean he was stripped of his worth to them, his autonomy?

After a long staring contest with Jack, Katherine huffed and rolled her eyes. “Boys,” she muttered, turning away from both of them. Jack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The lines of Katherine’s shoulders were sharp and tight, radiating tension that was echoed in Jack’s nervous stance.

Crutchie picked at the blanket. Why did every conversation seem to turn into a fight lately? He just wanted people to respect his choices. Heck, maybe he would take Spot up on that offer. It sounded nice to be around people who had no history with him, a fresh slate, a new standard to set. He would get to prove he was strong to them, instead of being cooped up because they were too afraid of how broken he was.

“Well,” Katherine said, straightening her shoulders and facing them again, “take off your shirt, then.”

Crutchie choked. So did Jack. “Uh, what?” Jack sputtered.

“Buy me dinner first,” Crutchie managed.

Katherine rolled her eyes. “You want to be back out there, don’t you?” she asked Crutchie. He nodded, a little scared of where this was going. “I need to make sure you’re healing well enough, if you won’t see a doctor. Then I’ll tell you when you can continue to sell newspapers. And Jack? Get us something to drink.”

[thefactsofthematter]

spravey office romance but like... they're not cops and theyre nice to each other

ask and you shall recieve!! (two months after you asked... oops)

here is some good ol spavey, vaguely inspired by the office, where they are in fact nice to each other!!! its like 2.8k, modern au, and fuck it disabled!spot rights he’s in a wheelchair because i said so. here you go anon!!

-

"David... Davey. My office, now. Get in here."

Davey can't roll his eyes quite hard enough to express just how annoyed he is in this moment. Race shoots him a sympathetic look from across the office.

"Coming, Mr. Wiesel!" He's thankful his desk faces away from his boss's office, so he has time to school his expression into something happier before he turns around. "Can I help you with something?"

Now... Mr. Wiesel isn't the worst boss in the world. He really isn't. But he most certainly isn't the best either, despite what his favourite mug (that he probably bought for himself) might tell you. He's nice enough most of the time, and he seems to try his best... but god is he ever incompetent.

Like right now, he's probably going to task Davey with something that could've been handled by literally anyone else. Davey has actual work to do— he's not sure what Wiesel even does all day in that office of his, because he seems to delegate everything off to his unfortunate employees. He's a regional manager, in charge of sales and finances for the Manhattan branch of a major New York City newspaper, and yet he seems to have the brain of an actual goldfish.

"Secret meeting," Wiesel says, as Davey walks in. "Close the door behind you and sit down."

"It's not exactly a secret, sir," Davey replies, though he does as he's told anyways, settling into a chair once the door is closed. "You yelled across the office to tell me about it."

Also, he's immediately going to disclose every detail of the meeting to Race and Jack as soon as they're done in here, but Wiesel doesn't need to know that.

"Details, shmetails," scoffs Wiesel. "I have an important job for you."

This can't possibly be good.

"I have a lot of other work to do," Davey sighs. He truly does— he's the head of accounting for their office, and they're in the middle of a company audit. "Jack didn't look that busy, I'm sure you could give him something to entertain himself with."

Jack works in sales— which basically just means he has to convince distributors that newspapers totally aren't a dying medium, and they should definitely keep buying their copies to sell. He's remarkably good at selling newspapers, but he's also easily distracted and seems to have far too much time to plan stupid office pranks.

"I don't trust Jack. Salesmen... they're too charming. You never know what they're up to."

Okay, so Wiesel is batshit fucking insane. This is, unfortunately, par for the course that is trying to hold any kind of conversation with him.

"What is it you need me to do, sir?" Davey is beyond exasperated. Why he of all people had to become Wiesel's favourite employee, he'll never understand. "Again, I'm already very busy."

"It won't take long, don't worry." Wiesel smiles wide. "I want you to be our official welcoming committee. We're getting a new employee."

Davey can't physically stop his eyebrows from shooting up, practically to his hairline. What?

"Look, boss, the audit isn't finished yet, but I can tell you that it makes absolutely no financial sense to hire someone new right now." He knows he's talking to a stubborn brick wall, but he continues anyways. "We're barely turning a profit, and some of our numbers don't make any sense. Why do we have two janitors?"

"I wanted to give my nephews a head start in the industry!"

"The... custodian industry?"

"Morris and Oscar are smart boys, they'll make something out of it." Wiesel shakes his head. "Anyways, we're just getting a transfer from the Brooklyn office. He won't even be on our payroll. Corporate is sending him in because they think our office is... unproductive."

It's like it physically pains him to say that last word, though Davey knows it to be true. He wouldn't be surprised if they get downsized in the near future.

"Okay..." Davey sighs. "You just want me to say hi to him, then?"

"More than that, David. Show him around. Give him the good ol' World Welcome."

"Is that a thing? Am I hazing him?"

"Oh my god, yeah—"

"No." Davey cuts him off before that idea can escalate, regretting that he even brought it up. "Okay, I'm going back to work. I'll say hi to him when he gets here."

-

Rather than go back to his own corner of the office, Davey makes a beeline for Race's desk.

"Did you know we're getting a new guy?"

Race, being the receptionist and all, generally keeps track of anyone who comes and goes from the office. However, he's either hungover or high a good fifty percent of the time, so he's not the most reliable source.

"I think I was probably supposed to know that," Race says, frowning at his computer. "I skip the emails that don't look important. Lemme go check."

"A new guy, huh?" Jack asks, sauntering over from his desk, which is only like ten feet away. "I need to start planning a welcome prank."

"No, you absolutely do not."

Before Jack can go off on some prank-related tangent, Race interrupts.

"Found it! Weasel emailed me this morning. He said: New guy is called Sean Conlon. Transferring in from Brooklyn for a week. I heard a rumour that he doesn't have legs."

The three of them share a moment of confused silence.

"Maybe he'll get along with Crutchie," Jack offers. "You know... since he only has one leg, and this guy has no legs. They could, like, bond."

Davey chokes on a laugh— he definitely feels like he shouldn't be laughing, but he can never help it when Jack says shit like that.

"Okay, I'm glad you got that out now. You know how badly Weasel handles sensitivity training, so let's avoid it if we can."

Their last round of sensitivity training was due to Wiesel's running gag of only speaking to Jack in broken Spanish. Jack is originally from New Mexico, he's Navajo, and he doesn't even speak Spanish. Jack thought it was hilarious (while ridiculously offensive), but it was making the entire office uncomfortable, so someone must have anonymously called it in to corporate.

"You mean we can spend a whole day listening to Weasel tell us he's not racist again? Sounds like a party." Jack laughs. "But yeah, I'm not stupid. I'm not gonna make fun of a guy with no legs."

"We don't even know that he doesn't have legs," Race interjects. "At this point I don't believe anything Weasel says, especially if he's willing to admit it's a rumour. Where did he even hear that?"

Davey shrugs.

"Who knows. Legs or not, we're gonna be nice to the new guy. Weasel made me the designated welcoming committee, so I'm officially adding you two to my team."

"Extra work?" asks Race. "Not happening."

"You've been playing the Sims all morning. You haven't been doing any work," Jack points out. "Can we go on a donut run at lunch and have a staff party for him?"

Davey can do nothing more than sigh. There's no reasoning with Jack when it comes to his obsession with throwing pointless staff parties.

"Sure. Whatever. No balloons, though."

And that's that— they head back to their own desks and wait for the new guy to show up.

-

The elevator dings about twenty minutes later.

The guy does, in fact, have legs— though he's using a wheelchair, so they must not work very well. That's probably where Wiesel got the rumour from. He's got a grumpy look on his face, like he's not particularly thrilled to be here, and a messenger bag on his lap. Above all, Davey notices, the new guy is really fucking hot.

He makes his way over to Race's desk to check in, and Davey decides to wait a moment before going over to introduce himself, so as to seem like he hasn't been obsessively watching the elevator for his arrival. He needs to compose himself— his tie is feeling a little too tight. Holy shit, that man is so beautiful.

Race, ever the professional, pulls out one AirPod to greet the new guy, and they have a short conversation that Davey can't quite overhear. It ends with Race shouting Davey, come here! because apparently no one in this office knows how to use the paging system built into the phones on everyone's desks.

"You called?" Davey sighs, as he approaches the reception desk. "I don't sit that far away, you really don't need to yell."

"Yelling gets things done," says Race with a shrug. He gestures to the new guy. "This is Sean, he's the assistant manager from the Brooklyn branch. Sean, this is Davey. He's the manager's assistant at our branch."

"I'm not Weasel's assistant," hisses Davey, glaring at Race. "I'm just bad at saying no to him." He turns to Sean and extends a hand to shake. "David Jacobs, head of accounting. Sorry about Anthony— I swear we're not all like this."

Race scoffs.

"Please, I'm hilarious and everyone loves me."

Davey and Sean both pointedly ignore him.

"It's nice to meet you," Sean says, with a handshake so firm that Davey nearly goes weak in the knees. "I'm looking forward to getting to know this location."

God, he's a sucker for a professional. This is either going to be the best or the worst week ever, and Davey has no clue which way it'll go.

-

He shows Sean to his desk, manages to stop Jack and Crutchie from setting off a party popper behind his head as a welcome prank, and then finally tries to get back to what's he's actually supposed to be doing.

It doesn't last long— he gets a text from Race just a few minutes after sitting down.

Racer: new guy is fiiiiine as hell ain't he Racer: i mean just look at that smoulder while he works

Davey: he's too old for you, don't even think about it.

Racer: heyyy i'm 19 now >:(

Davey: and he's gotta be at least 25 Davey: not happening, kiddo

Racer: look at me

Davey looks up from his phone, only to see Race flipping him off. Okay then.

Race somehow got hired here straight out of high school, while everyone else in the office has at least some college education— making him the baby of the bunch. While hilariously incompetent at his job, he is fun to be around, so Wiesel has kept him on. He's become Davey and Jack's pseudo-little-brother, much to his annoyance.

Anyways... back to the audit. Davey can hardly focus. Sean is sitting right across from him, and he feels like a stupid teenager with a crush on someone in his class because he just can't draw his eyes away. The morning goes smoothly, though, apart from Davey's heart fluttering a little every time he looks at Sean. In fact, it almost feels too good to be true... until Wiesel finally emerges from his office.

"A wheelchair!" is the first thing he shouts, which makes Davey want to smash his head through his computer screen and then throw himself out the window. So much for his hopes of avoiding sensitivity training. "Isn't that neat! You must be our new friend from Brooklyn."

Sean looks almost stunned, which is the most emotion he's shown since he got here.

"Sean Conlon," he says, slowly and confused, definitely offended, but still sticking out a hand to shake. "Um... I take it you're the branch manager. Is the wheelchair going to be a problem?"

"Oh, god no!" Wiesel replies, shaking Sean's hand far too enthusiastically. "We love disabled people here. I mean, hell, David over here is gay!"

Davey very nearly spontaneously combusts with the heat that immediately rises to his cheeks. He ducks his head a little to hide the blush and avoid eye contact with anyone. He's certainly not the only queer in the office, but he's somehow the only one Wiesel has picked up on, and he loves to make stupid comments about it. Davey is simply far too awkward to stand up for himself when it happens.

"That's... not a disability." When Davey looks up, Sean is staring Wiesel down with a look that screams you're getting fired if there's anything I can do about it. "Frankly, that's incredibly rude to both David and myself. Is this the standard of conduct you set for your employees?"

"Woah," Wiesel immediately starts to backpedal. "Calm down Mr. Professional! It's just a joke between friends."

Sean's expression doesn't change.

"Jokes are supposed to be funny."

From a few desks away, Jack and Crutchie burst into silent, muffled laughter, while Davey shoots them a desperate look. What the fuck does he say? The entire office has gone quiet, watching the standoff go down.

"Davey!" Wiesel says, frantically. "You thought it was funny, right?"

Davey swallows nervously.

"Actually, it's really hurtful when you say stuff like that." He's shaking a little— standing up for himself is not something he typically does. "My identity isn't a joke. It's part of who I am."

Wiesel doesn't seem to know what to say, and Davey can do nothing but wait for some kind of response. His face is burning and his palms are sweaty— it's humiliating.

"Period! You tell him, Davey!" Jack shouts, from his desk, which instantly breaks some of the tension. "Get his ass!"

"I think I'll be taking this up with HR," Sean says, once Wiesel has been quiet a little too long. He's so smooth with it that Davey's heart flutters a little. "I'm getting a sense that this is a running issue— I'd like them to have a look into your position here at the company. It was nice to meet you, though."

And then he turns back to his computer to work on whatever he was doing. Holy shit. There's a general rustling of papers and clicking of mouses around the room as everyone follows his lead, and Davey has to bite back a smile. It felt kind of good to stick it to Weasel.

-

The work day is pretty much over, Davey is packing up, and he really wants to figure out a way to make conversation with Sean.

He's so cool. He's so damn cool, and he's hot, and he's well-spoken and professional... Davey is desperate to at least be his friend. It's a Monday, not typically a night he'd go out for happy hour after work, but he's considering making plans anyways. He is the welcoming committee after all.

He shoots off a group text to Race, Jack and Crutchie, suggesting a little welcoming party at their usual bar down the block, and everyone drops a like on it within moments. Perfect.

"Hey," he leans over the little gap between their desks and can't stop himself from smiling. "A few of us are gonna go for drinks once we clock out, and you're more than welcome to join us."

Sean finally cracks a real smile, and Davey nearly passes out. He's gorgeous.

"Really?" He looks so happy just to be included. "That sounds fun, I'd love to."

-

"I'm really sorry about earlier."

Davey and Sean sit at a table, while Jack and Race play pool, and Crutchie tries his best to make a move on the bartender that he's been crushing on for ages. It never quite goes his way, but his commitment to the cause is admirable.

"What?" Davey asks. "Why? It was so nice of you to stick up for me!"

"I just feel bad that you got dragged into it," Sean sighs. "I mean, um... I'm gay too. So I kinda know how it feels when people say stuff like that, and sometimes it really is easier to brush it off. I didn't mean for you to get put on the spot like that."

Davey shrugs, trying to play off the way his heart has begun to flutter with the knowledge that he might have a chance— Sean is gay! This is too good to be true.

"It felt good to finally say something," Davey chuckles. "It was about time someone put him in his place. He's old and out-of-touch."

"And an asshole."

Davey laughs, loud and abruptly.

"Yeah, you're right. He's an asshole." He pauses, unable to stop smiling. "I'm gonna go grab another beer, can I buy you one?"

Sean, once again, looks surprised that Davey is being so nice to him, and his face breaks into that incredible grin from before.

"Sure, yeah! That'd be nice! Thank you so much."

And if the evening ends with a folded up napkin with a messily scribbled phone number and a note about the stupid nickname all my friends usually call me being casually slipped into Davey's back pocket... well, that's no one's business but Davey and Spot's.

[love-pyramus]

I

RACETRACK: In 1899, the street of New York City echoed with the voices of newsies, peddeling the newspapers of Joseph Pulitzer, William Randolph Hearst and other giants of the newspaper world. On every street corner you saw 'em, carrying the banner, bringing you the news for a penny a pape. Poor orphans and run-aways, the newsies were a ragged army, without a leader, until one day when all that changed.

(The movie title appears. We see the outside of the Newsboys Lodging House. Inside, Kloppman, the owner, enters the bunkroom, finding the boys still in bed.)

KLOPPMAN: Boots! Skittery! Skittery! Skittery!

SKITTERY: Wha..I didn't do it!

KLOPPMAN: What do you mean you didn't do it? Will you get up? When you get up, it's time to get up! Snitch! Get up! Get up! Everybody's sleeping. They sleep their lives away these kids! The presses are rolling! Sell the papers, sell the papers! Come on, come on. You dreaming about selling papers?

JACK: Mmmmmm? What's the matta with you?

KLOPPMAN: What's the matter with me?

JACK: What's the matta with you? Wanna..go..back..to..

KLOPPMAN: Come on! (gives him a shove)

JACK: Get away from me, you're mad!

KLOPPMAN:  Haha. Get up boy! Come on. Alright! Carry the banner! Sell the papers!

(Racetrack looks around for his cigar, noticing that Snipeshooter has it)

*Start Song*

RACETRACK: That's my cigar!

SNIPESHOOTER: You'll steal anudder!

KID BLINK: Hey bummers, we got work tah do!

KID: Since when did you become me mudder?

CRUTCHY: Aww, stop your bawling!

NEWSIES: Hey, who asked you?

MUSH: So, how'd you sleep Jack?

JACK: On me back Mush.

MUSH: Ha ha. Hear that fellas? Hear what Jack said? I asked Jack how he slept and he said 'On me back Mush'

CRUTCHY: Jack, when I walk, does it look like I'm faking it?

JACK: No. Who says you're faking it?

CRUTCHY: I dunno. It's just there's so many fake crips on the street today, a real crip ain't got a chance. I gotta find me a new selling spot where they ain't used to seeing me.

MUSH: Try Bottle Alley or the harbour

RACETRACK: Try Central Park, it's guaranteed

JACK: Try any baker, bum, or barber

SKITTERY: They almost all knows how to read

KID BLINK: I smell money

CRUTCHY: You smell foul!

MUSH: Met this girl last night

CRUTCHY: Move your elbow!

RACETRACK: Pass the towel!

SKITTERY: For a buck I might!

NEWSIES: Ain't it a fine life Carrying the banner through it all? A mighty fine life Carrying the banner tough and tall Every morning, we goes where we wishes We's as free as fished Sure beats washin' dishes What a fine life Carrying the banner home-free all!

(The newsies leave the Lodging House and head towards Newsies Square)

Summer stinks and winter's waiting Welcome to New York Boy, ain't nature fascinating When you'se gotta walk? Still, it's a fine life Carrying the banner with me chums A mighty fine life Blowing every nickel as it comes

CRUTCHY: I'm no snoozer Sitting makes me antsy I likes living chancy

NEWSIES: Harlem tah Delancey What a fine life Carrying the banner through the slums

NUNS: Blessed children thought you wonder lost and depraved Jesus loves you, you shall be saved!

PATRICK'S MOTHER: Patrick, darling Since you left me, I am undone Mother loves you God save my son!

(Sung in counterpoint)

RACETRACK: Just give me half a cup

KID BLINK: Something to wake me up

MUSH: I gotta find an angle

CRUTCHY: I gotta sell more papes

VARIOUS NEWSIES: Papers is all I got Wish I could catch a breeze Sure hope the headline's hot All I can catch is fleas God help me if it's not Somebody help me, please..

(End counterpoint)

NEWSIES: If I hate the headline, I'll make up the headline And I'll say anything I hafta 'Cause it's two for a penny, if I take too many Weasel just makes me eat 'em afta

(Sung in counterpoint)

1. Look! They're putting up the headline They call that a headline? I get better stories from the copper on the beat I was gunna start with twenty but a dozen'll be plenty Tell me, how'm I gonna make ends meet?

2. What's it say? That won't pay! So where's your spot? God, it's hot! Will ya tell me how'm I gonna make ends meet?

(End counterpoint)

NEWSIES: We need a good assassination! We need an earthquake or a war!

SNIPESHOOTER: How 'bout a crooked politician?

NEWSIES: Hey, stupid, that ain't news no more! Uptown to Grand Central Station Down to City Hall We improves our circulation Walkin' til we fall!

(Sung in counterpoint)

1. Still we'll be out there Carrying the banner man to man! Yes, we'll be out there Soaking every sucker that we can! See the headline Newsies on a mission Kill the competition Sell the next edition While we're out there Carrying the banner is the...

2.Look, they're putting up the headline They call that a headlin The idiot who wrote it must be working for the Sun Didja hear about the fire?

3.Heard it killed old man Maguire!

2.Heard the toll was ever higher

3.Why do I miss all the fun?

2.Hitched it on a Trolly

3.Meetcha Forty-Fourth and Second

2.Little Italy's a secret

3.Bleecker's further than I reckoned

2.At the courthouse

3.Near the stables

2.On the corner someone beckoned and I....

(The Delancey brothers, Oscar and Morris, enter.)

RACETRACK: Dear me! What is that unpleasant aroma? I fear the sewer may have backed up during the night

BOOTS: Nah, too rotten to be the sewers.

CRUTCHY: It must be the Delancey brudders.

RACETRACK:  Hiya boys!

OSCAR:(to Snipeshooter) In the back, you lousy little shrimp. (Oscar throws Snipeshooter to the ground. Jack goes to help him up)

RACETRACK: It's not good to do that. Not healthy

JACK: You shouldn't call people lously little shrimps, Oscar, unless you're refering to the family resemblance in your brudda here.

RACETRACK: 5-1 that Cowboys skunks 'em. Who's betting?

JACK: That's right. It's an insult. So's this

(Jack knocks Morris' hat off his head. The Delancey's chase Jack around the Square. David and Les enter and watch until Jack bumps into them.)

DAVID: What do you think you're doing?

JACK: Runnin'!

NEWSIES:  (Sung in counterpoint)

1.It's a fine life Carrying the banner through it all A mighty fine life Carrying the banner tough and tall See the headline Newsies on a mission Kill the competition Sell the next edition What a fine life Carrying the banner!

2.Would you look at the headline You call that a headline? I get better stories from the copper on the beat I was gonna start with twenty but a dozen'll be plenty Would you tell me how'm I ever gonna make ends meet Hitched it on a Trolly Meetcha Forty-Fourth and Second Little Italy's a secret Bleecker's further than I reckoned By the courthouse, near the stables On the corner someone beckoned! Go get 'em Cowboy! You've got 'em now boy!

(End counterpoint)

NEWSIES: Go!

WORLD EMPLOYEE: These is for the newsies!

(The newsies line up for their papes, congratulating Jack on beating the Delancey's)

MORRIS: See you tomorrow, Cowboy

OSCAR: You're as good as dead, Cowboy

JACK: Oh Mr. Weasel.

WEASEL: Alright, alright! Hold your horses! I'm coming, I'm coming.

JACK: So, didja miss me Weasel? Huh, did you miss me?

WEASEL: I told ya a million times, the name's Wisel. Mr. Wisel to you. How many?

JACK: Don't rush me, I'm perusing the merchandise Mr. Weasel. The usual.

WEASEL: 100 papes for the wise guy. Next!

RACETRACK: Morning your honor! Listen, do me a favor, spot me 50 papes? I got a hot tip int the fourth, you won't waste your money.

WEASEL: It's a sure thing?

RACETRACK: Yeah. Not like last time.

WEASEL: 50 papes! Next!

CRUTCHY: Heya Mr. Wisel.

RACETRACK: See anything good this morning?

WEASEL: 30 papes for Crutchy! Next!

JACK:(to Les) You wanna sit down?

DAVID: 20 papers please. Thanks.

RACETRACK: Look at this, 'Baby Born With Two Heads'. Must be from Brooklyn.

WEASEL: Hey, you got your lously papes, now beat it!

DAVID: I paid for twenty. I only got nineteen.

WEASEL: Are you accusing me of lying kid?

DAVID: No. I just want my paper.

MORRIS: He said beat it!

JACK: No, it's nineteen. It's nineteen, but don't worry about it. It's an honest mistake. I mean, Morris here can't count to twenty with his

shoes on. Hey Race, will ya spot me 2 bits? Another 50 for my friend.

DAVID: I don't want another 50.

JACK: Sure you do. Every newsie wants more papes.

DAVID: I don't. I don't want your papes. I don't take charity from anyone. I don't know you. I don't care to. Here are your papes.

LES: Cowboy. They called him Cowboy.

JACK: Yeah, I'm called that and a lot of other things, including Jack Kelly, which is what me mudder called me.what do they call you kid?

LES: Les, and this is my brother David. He's older.

JACK: No kidding. So how old are you Les?

LES: Me? Near 10.

JACK: Near 10. Well, that's no good. if anyone asks, you're 7. You see, younger sells more papes and if we're gonna be partners, we wanna

be the best.

DAVID: Wait. Who said anything about being partners?

JACK: Well, you owe me 2 bits right? Well, I'll consider that an investment. We sell together, we split 70-30, plus you get the benefit of observing me, no charge.

DAVID: Ah-ha.

JACK: (mocking) Ah-ha.

CRUTCHY: You're getting the chance of a lifetime here, Davey. You learn from Jack, you learn from the best.

DAVID: Well, if he's the best, then how come he needs me?

JACK: Listen,I don't need you, pal,but I ain't got a cute little brudder like Les here to front for me. With this kid's puss and my God-given talent, we could move a thousand papes a week. So what do you say Les? You wanna sell papes with me?

LES: Yeah!

JACK: So we got a deal?

DAVID: Wait. It's got to be at least 50-50.

JACK: 60-40, I forget the whole thing.

(David holds out his hand. Jack spits on his hand and reaches for David, who pulls his arm away.)

JACK: What'sa matta?

DAVID: That's disgusting!

(By this time, the rest of the newsies have gotten their papers and are moving out into the street.)

JACK: The name of the game is volume, Dave. You only took twenty papes. Why?

DAVID: Bad headline.

JACK: That's the first thing you gotta learn. Headlines don't sell papes, newsies sell papes. You know, we're what holds this town together.

Without newsies, nobody knows nothing.

(A girl hurries past and the newsies take off their hats and make a few comments)

SPECS: Baby born with three heads!

(The newsies begin to yell out various headlines as the spread out over the streets. We go into Pulitzer's office where Pulitzer is reading the headline. Also in the room is Jonathan, Seitz and another World employee.)

PULITZER: 'Trolly Strike Drags On For Third Week' and this so called headline drags on for infinity.

EMPLOYEE: News is slow, Mr. Pulitzer. The trolly strike's all we've got.

PULITZER: Well, that's all Mr. William Randolph Hearst has too, but look how he covers the strike. Look! Look!

EMPLOYEE: We'll get a new headline writer, sir.

PULITZER: Steal Hearst's man. Offer him double.

SEITZ:  That's how he stole him from us. It's not the headlines, Chief. The circulation wars are cutting into our profits because you spend as much as you make trying to beat Hearst.

PULITZER: Then we need to make more money. You do not penny-pinch when you're in a war, Seitz. Victory means everything. Now, when I created the world... what is that deafening noise?

JONATHAN: Just the newsies, sir. I'll go have them quieted.

PULITZER: Never mind the newsies. Where was I?

SEITZ: Creating the world, Chief.

PULITZER: There's lots of money down there, gentlemen. I want to know how I can get more of it...by tonight.

(We are now in the streets of New York. Jack and David roam through the crowds.)

DAVID: Extra! Extra! Trolly strike drags on!

JACK: Extra! Extra! Ellis Island in flames!

DAVID: Wait, where's that story?

JACK: Thank you sir. Page 9. Thousands flee in panic. Thank you. Much obliged to you ladies.

DAVID 'Trash Fire Next To Immigration Building Terrifies Seagulls'??

JACK: Terrified flight of inferno!! Thousands of lives at stake!  Extra! Extra! Thank you sir. Extra! Extra!

(Les enters)

JACK: Hey, you start in the back like I told you? Ok, show me again.

LES:  (coughs) Buy me last pape, mista?

JACK: It's heartbreaking kid. Go get 'em.

DAVID: My father taught us not to lie.

JACK: Well, mine told me not to starve, so we both got an education.

DAVID: You're just making up things. All these headlines.

JACK: I don't do nothing the guys who write it don't do. Anyway, it's not lying, it's just improving the truth little.

(Warden Snyder enters and see Jack. Les re-enters)

LES: The guy gave me a quarter. Quick, give me some more last papers.

DAVID: Wait, wait. You smell like beer.

LES: Well, that's how I made the quarter. The guy bet me I wouldn't drink some.

JACK: Hey, no drinking on the job. It's bad for business. And what if somebody called the cop on you?

DAVID:  (pointing to Snyder) Is he a friend of your's?

JACK: Beat it! It's the bulls!

LES: All this over one sip of beer?

(Snyder chases Jack, David and Les through the streets, and into a building. They run up the stairs and get to the roof. Without stopping for a second, Jack jumps off the roof, leaving David and Les alone. Jack's head pops up and David and Les join him on a ledge just as Snyder enters.)

SNYDER: Sullivan! Wait til I get you back to the Refuge!

(Jack leads David and Les a little more, when David pulls him to a halt outside Irving Hall)

DAVID: I'm not running any further.

(Jack leads the two brothers inside.)

DAVID: I want some answers.

JACK: Shhh!

DAVID: Who was he and why was he chasing you? And what is this Refuge?

JACK: The Refuge is a jail for kids. That guy chasing me was Snyder, the warden.

LES: You were in jail?

JACK: Yeah.

LES: Why?

JACK: Well, I was starving, so I stole some food.

DAVID: Food?

JACK: Yeah, food.

DAVID: He called you Sullivan.

JACK: Well, my name's Kelly. Jack Kelly. You think I'm lying?

DAVID: Well, you have a way of improving the truth. Why was he chasing you?

JACK: 'Cause I escaped.

LES: Oh boy! How?

JACK: Well, this big shot gave me a ride out in his carriage.

DAVID: I bet it was the mayor.

JACK: No, Teddy Roosevelt. You ever heard of him?

MEDDA: What's going on there? Out! Out! Out!

JACK: You wouldn't kick me out without a kiss goodbye, wouldja Medda?

MEDDA: Oh Kelly. Where ya been, kid? Oh, I miss seeing you up in the balcony.

JACK: Hanging on your every word. So Medda.

MEDDA: Yes.

JACK: This is David and Les.

MEDDA: Hello.

JACK: And this is the greatest star of the vaudeville stage today, Miss Medda Larkson, the Swedish Meadowlark.

MEDDA: Welcome, gentlemen.

JACK: Medda also owns the joint.

MEDDA: Oh, what do we have here? Oh, aren't you the cutest little thing that ever was? Yes you are.

LES:  (cough) Buy me last pape, lady?

MEDDA: Oh, you are good. Oh yes, this kid is really good. Speaking as one professional to another, I'd say you have a great future.

JACK: So, is it alright if we stay here for a little while, Medda? Just until a little problem outside goes away.

MEDDA: Sure,stay as long as you like. Toby, just give my guests whatever they want.

ANNOUNCER: And now gents, the moment you've all been waiting for. The sensational songbird. The Swedish Meadowlark, Miss Medda Larkson.

(Medda goes on stage. Jack, David and Les watch from backstage.)

MEDDA: My lovey dovey baby I boo-hoo-hoo for you I used to be your tootsie-wootsie Then you said 'tooldle-dedoo' I miss the hanky-panky Each nighty-night til three Come back my lovey dovey baby And coochie-coo with me!

(After the show, the boys go outside)

JACK: So, you like that?

DAVID: Oh,I loved that. I loved it. It was great. She is beautiful. How do you know her?

JACK: She was a friend of me fadder's. Come on, Les, you wanna shine me shoes for me?

DAVID: Oh, it's getting late. My parents are going to be worried. What about your's?

JACK: Nah, they're out west looking for a place to live, like this. (Pulls out a Santa Fe brochure) See, that's Santa Fe, New Mexico. As soon as they find the right ranch, they're gonna send for me.

LES: Then you'll be a real cowboy.

JACK: Yup.

(Fire and loud crashes are heard. The boys run and see a riot breaking out. A group of men are beating up another man.)

DAVID: Jack! Why don't we go to my place and divi up. You can meet my folks.

JACK: It's the trolly strike, Dave. These couple of dumb-asses must not have joined or something.

DAVID: Jack, let's get out of here.

JACK: So, maybe we'll get a good headline tomorrow, Dave.  Look at this, he slept the whole way threw it.

(Jack picks up Les from the bench where he fell asleep. They enter David's house.)

ESTER: My God. What happened?

DAVID: Nothing, mama. He's just sleeping.

MAYER: We've been waiting dinner for you. Where have you been? (David puts a pile of coins on the table.)

MAYER: You made all this selling newspapers?

DAVID: Well, half of it's Jack's. This is our selling partner, and our friend. Jack Kelly, my parents. And that's my sister, Sarah.

MAYER: Ester, maybe David's partner would like to join us for dinner. Why don't you add a little more water to the soup?

(He kisses her. She shoves him away playfully)

ESTER: Mayer!

(After dinner, they talk as Sarah clears the table.)

JACK: So, from wat I saw today, you're boys are a couple of born newsies. Can I have some more?

SARAH: Yes.

JACK: So with their hard work and my experience,I figure we can peddle a thousand papes a week and not even break a sweat.

MAYER: That many?

JACK: More when the headline's good.

SARAH: So what makes the headline good?

JACK: Oh, you know. Catchy words like maniac, or corpse, umm..lovenest, or nude. Excuse me. Maybe I'm talkin' too much.

MAYER:  Sarah? Go get the cake your mother's hiding in the cabinet.

ESTER: That's for your birthday tomorrow!

MAYOR: Well, I've had enough birthdays. This is a celebration.

DAVID: I'll get the knife.

SARAH: I got the plates.

DAVID: This is only the beginning, papa. The longer I work, the more money I'll make.

MAYER: You'll only work until I go back to the factory, and then you are going back to school, like you promised.

SARAH:  Happy birthday, papa.

MAYER: This is going to heal, and they'll give me my job back. We'll make them

(Les stirs, but doesn't wake up in bed.)

LES: Come back my lovey dovey baby And coochie-coo with me!

(David and Jack start laughing)

ESTER: And what is this David?

(The boys try to stop laughing, but can't. Scene:  LATER THAT NIGHT, on David's fire escape)

JACK: So, how'd your pop get hurt?

DAVID: At the factory. It was an accident. He's no good to them anymore, so they just fired him.

(Mayer appears at the window.)

MAYER: David, it's time to come in now.

DAVID: Alright. Jack, why don't you stay here tonight?

JACK: Ah, no, thanks. I got a place of my own. But you're family's real nice, like mine.

DAVID: See you tomorrow.

JACK: Alright.

DAVID: Carrying the banner.

JACK: Carrying the banner.

(David goes inside, leaving Jack alone on the fire escape. He looks in the window and see the family together.)

JACK: So that's what they call a family Mudder, fadder, daughter, son Guess everything you heard about it's true. So you ain't got any family Well, who said you needed one? Ain'tcha glad nobody's waiting up for you? When I dream on my own I'm alone, but I ain't lonely For a dreamer, night's the only time of day When the city's finally sleeping When my thoughts begin to stray And I'm on the train that bound for Santa Fe And I'm free Like the wind Like I'm gonna live forever. It's a feeling time can never take away All I need's a few more dollars And I'm outta here to stay Dreams come true Yes they do In Santa Fe Where does it say you've gotta live and die here? Where does it say a guy can't catch a break? Why should you only take what you're given? Why should you spend your whole life livin' Trapped where there ain't no future Even at seventeen Breaking your back for someone else's sake If the life don't seem to suit ya How bout a change of scene? Far from the lously headlines And the deadlines in between Santa Fe Are you there? Do you swear you won't forget me? If I found you would you let me come and stay? I ain't getting any younger And before my dying day I want space Not just air Let 'em laugh in my face, I don't care Save a place I'll be there So that's what they call a family? Ain'tcha glad you ain't that way? Ain'tcha glad you got a dream called Santa Fe?

(Jack ends up outside the Lodging House. As he enters, he meets up with Racetrack)

JACK: Heya Race.

RACETRACK: Hey Jack.

JACK: How was your day at the track?

RACETRACK: Remember that hot tip I told you about? Nobody told the horse.

(Pulitzer, Seitz and Jonathan are sitting it Pulitzer's office.)

PULITZER: I know we need to make more money. That's why we're here, to find out how to make more money.

JONATHAN: I have several proposals. First, to increase the paper's price.

PULITZER: Then Hearst outsells me and I'm in the poorhouse. Brilliant, Jonathan, brilliant.

JONATHAN: Not the customer's price. The price to the distribution apparatus.

SEITZ: Charge the newsies more for their papers? Bad idea, Chief.

JONATHAN: Very well. My next proposal, salary cuts. Particularly those at the top.

SEITZ:  Very bad idea, Chief.

PULITZER: Wait. What do the newsies pay now? 50 cents for 100 papers? If you raise it to 60 cents..

JONATHAN: A mere tenth of a cent per paper.

PULITZER: Multiply by 40, 000 papers a day?  7 days a week?.

JONATHAN: It definitely adds up, sir.

SEITZ:  If you do this, every newsie we've got will head straight for Hearst.

PULITZER: You don't know Hearst like I do, Seitz. As newspapermen, he and I would cut each other's throats to get an advantage. But as gentlemen, as businessmen, if also see eye to eye on certain things. Now, if we do it, Hearst and I, if we do it, then the other papers will do it.

SEITZ: It's going to be awfully tough on those children.

PULITZER: Nonsense, nonsense. It'll be good for them. Incentive, make them work harder, sell more papers. They'll look on it as an advantage.

(Outside the World building, the newsies have gathered. Jack joins them)

KID BLINK: They jacked up the price! You hear that Jack? Ten cents a hundred! You know, it's bad enough that we gotta eat what we don't sell, now they jack up the price! Can you believe that?

SKITTERY: This'll bust me, I'm barely making a living right now.

BOOT: I'll be back sleeping on the streets.

MUSH: It don't make no sense. I mean, all the money Pulitzer's making, why would he gouge us?

RACETRACK: Because he's a tight wad, that's why!

JACK: Pipe down, it's just a gag. So, why the jack up Weasel?

WEASEL: Why not? It's a nice day. Why don'tcha ask Mr. Pulitzer?

KID BLINK: They can't to this to me Jack.

RACETRACK: They can do whatever they want. It's their stinkin' paper.

BOOTS: It ain't fair. We got no rights at all.

RACETRACK: Come on, it's a rigged deck. They got all the marbles.

MUSH: Jack, we got no choice, so why don't we get our lousy papes while they still got some, huh?

JACK: No! Nobody's going anywhere. They can't get away with this!

LES: Give him some room, give him some room. Let him think.

RACETRACK: Jack, you done thinkin' yet?

WEASEL: Hey! Hey! Hey! World employees only on this side of the gate!

JACK: Well, listen. One thing for sure, if we don't sell papes, then nobody sells papes. Nobody comes through those gates until they put the price back to where it was.

DAVID: You mean like a strike?

JACK: Yeah, like a strike!

RACETRACK: Are you out of your mind?

JACK: It's a good idea!

DAVID: Jack, I was only joking. We can't go on strike, we don't have a union.

JACK: But, if we go on strike, then we are a union, right?

DAVID: No, we're just a bunch of angry kids with no money. Maybe if we got every newsie in New York, but...

JACK: Yeah, well we organize. Crutchy, you take up for collection. We get all the newsies of New York together.

DAVID: Jack, this isn't a joke. You saw what happened to those trolley workers.

JACK: Yeah, well that's another good idea. Any newsie don't join with us, then we bust their heads like the trolley workers.

DAVID: Stop and think about this Jack. You can't just rush everybody into this

JACK: Alright. Let me think about it. Listen. Dave's right. Pulitzer and Hearst and all them other rich fellas, I mean, they own this city, so do they really think a bunch of street kids like us can make any difference? The choice has got to be yours. Are we just gonna take what they give us, or are we gonna strike?

LES: Strike!

BOOTS: Keep talking Jack, tell us what to do!

JACK: Well, you tell us what to do Davey.

DAVID: Pulitzer and Hearst have to respect our rights.

JACK: Hey listen! Pulitzer and Hearst have to respect the rights of the working boys of New York! Well, that worked pretty good, so what else?

DAVID: Tell them that they can't treat us like we don't exist.

(Begin Song)

JACK: Pulitzer and Hearst, they think we're nothing. Are we nothing?

NEWSIES: No!

DAVID: If we stick together like the trolley workers then they can't break us up.

JACK: Pulitzer and Hearst, they think they got us. Do they got us?

NEWSIES: No!

DAVID: We're a union now, the Newsboys Union. We have to start acting like a union.

JACK: Even though we ain’t got hats or badges We’re a union just by saying so And the World will know!

BOOTS: What’s to start somebody else from selling our papes?

JACK: Well, what’s wrong with them?

RACETRACK: Some of them don’t hear so good!

JACK: Well then we’ll soak ‘em!

DAVID: No! We can’t beat up kids in the streets. It’ll give us a bad name.

CRUTCHY: Can’t get any worse.

JACK: What’s it gonna take to stop the wagons? Are we ready?

NEWSIES: Yeah!

DAVID: No!

JACK: What’s it gonna take to stop the scabber? Can we do it?

NEWSIES: Yeah!

JACK: We’ll do what we gotta do until we Break the will of mighty Bill and Joe!

NEWSIES: And the World will know And the Journal too! Mr. Hearst and Pulitzer Have we got news for you! Now the World will hear What we’ve got to say We’ve been hawking headlines But we’re making ‘em today. And our ranks will grow!

CRUTCHY: And we’ll kick their rear!

NEWSIES: And the World will know that we been here!

JACK: When the circulation bell starts ringing Will we hear it?

NEWSIES: No!

JACK: What if the Delancey’s come out swinging’ Will we hear it?

NEWSIES: No! When you’ve got a hundred voices singing Who can hear a lousy whistle blow? And the World will know That this ain’t no game That we got a ton of rotten fruit and perfect aim So they gave their word But it ain’t worth beans! Now they’re gonna see what ‘stop the presses’ really mean And the day has come And the time is now And the fear is gone

BOOTS: And their name is mud!

NEWSIES:  And the strike is on

BOOTS: And I can't stand blood!

NEWSIES: And the World will..

JACK: Pulitzer may crack the whip but he won’t whip us!

NEWSIES: Pulitzer may crack the whip but he won’t whip us! And the World will know And the World will learn And the World will wonder how We made the tables turn And the World will see That we had to choose That the things we do today Will be tomorrow’s news And the old will fall And the young stand tall And the time is now And the winds will blow And our ranks will grow And grow and grow and so The World will feel the fire And finally know!

NEWSIES: Strike! Strike! Strike! (etc.)

JACK: We gotta get word out to all the newsies of New York. I need some of those….what’dja call ‘em?

DAVID: Ambassadors?

JACK: Yeah, right. Okay, you guys, you gotta be ambastards and go tell the other that we’re on strike.

KID BLINK: Say, Jack, I’ll take Harlem

RACETRACK: Yeah, I got Midtown.

MUSH: I got the Battery, Jack.

CRUTCHY: Hey, I’ll take the Bronx.

JACK: Alright. And Bumlets, and Specs and Skittery, you take Queens.  Pie Eater! Snoddy! East Side! Snipeshooter, you go with ‘em. So, what about Brooklyn? Come on, Spot Conlon’s territory. What’sa matta? You scared of Brooklyn?

BOOTS: Hey, we ain’t scared of Brooklyn. Spot Conlon makes us a little nervous.

JACK: Well, he don’t make me nervous. So you and me, Boots, we’ll go to Brooklyn. And Dave here can keep us company.

DAVID: Sure, just as soon as you delivery our demands to Pulitzer.

JACK: Me? To Pulitzer?

DAVID: You’re the leader, Jack.

JACK: Well, maybe the kid’ll soften him up.

(Jack and Les enter the World Building. The newsies cheer)

NEWSIES: Strike! Strike! Strike! (etc.)

(The newsies go off in different directions. Denton enters and approaches David.)

DENTON: Hey, what is the strike? What’s going on?

DAVID: We’re bringing out demands to Pulitzer.

DENTON: What demands?

DAVID: The newsies demands. We’re on strike.

DENTON: I’m with the New York Sun. Bryan Denton. You seem like the kid in charge. What’s your name?

DAVID: David

DENTON: David. David as in David and Goliath? You really think old man Pulitzer’s going to listen to your demands?

DAVID: He has to. (Jack and Let thrown out the door.)

JACK: Well, so’s your old lady! You tell Pulitzer he needs an appointment with me!

LES: Yeah!

(Jack, David, Les and Denton are sitting in a booth in Tibby’s Restaurant.)

JACK: So this snooty mug says to me, ‘You can’t see Mr. Pulitzer. No one sees Mr. Pulitzer.’ Real hoity-toity, you know the type?

LES: Real hoity-toity.

JACK: So that’s when I says to him, ‘Listen, I ain’t in the habit of transacting no business with office boys. Just tell him Jack Kelly’s here to see him now!’

LES: That’s when he threw us out.

DENTON: Does he scare you? You’re going up against the most powerful man in New York City.

JACK: Oh yeah, look at me. I’m trembling.

DENTON: Alright, keep me informed. I want to know everything that’s going on.

DAVID: Are we really an important story?

DENTON: Well, what’s important? Last year I covered the war in Cuba. Charged up San Juan Hill with Col. Teddy Roosevelt. That was an important story. So, is the newsie’s strike important? That all depends on you.

JACK: So my name’s really gonna be in the papers?

DENTON: Any objections?

JACK: Not as long as you get it right. It’s Kelly, Jack Kelly. Oh, and Denton? No pictures.

DENTON: Sure Jack. (Jack, David and Boots start across the Brooklyn Bridge.)

DAVID: I’ve never been to Brooklyn, have you?

BOOTS: I spent a month there on night.

(Jack and Boots lean over the side and scream at the top of their lungs.)

DAVID: So, is this Spot Conlon really dangerous?

(The boys get to Brooklyn. There are a lot of tough looking boys.)

BROOKLYN NEWSIE: Going somewhere, Kelly?

(Jack pushes past him. David and Boots follow.)

SPOT: Well, if it ain’t Jack be nimble, Jack be quick.

JACK: I see you moved up in the world, Spot. Got a river view and everything.

(The two boys spit-shake.)

SPOT: Heya Boots. How’s it rollin’?

BOOTS: I got a couple of real good shooters.

(Spot takes the marbles and takes out his sling shot.)

SPOT: Yeah. So, Jacky-boy. I’ve been hearing things from little birds. Things from Harlem, Queens, all over. They been chirpin’ in my ear.  Jacky-boy’s newsies is playing like they’re going on strike.

JACK: Yeah, well we are.

DAVID: We’re not playing. We are going on strike.

SPOT: Oh yeah? Yeah? What is this, Jacky-boy? Some kind of walking mouth?

JACK: Yeah, it’s a mouth. A mouth with a brain, and if you got half a one, you’ll listen to what he’s got to say.

DAVID: Well, we started the strike, but we can’t do it alone. So, we’re talking to newsies all around the city.

SPOT: Yeah, so they told me. But what’d they tell you?

DAVID: They’re waiting to see what Spot Conlon is doing, you’re the key. That Spot Conlon is the most respected and famous newsie in all of New York, and probably everywhere else. And if Spot Conlon joins the strike, then they join and we’ll be unstoppable. So you gotta join, I mean... well, you gotta!

SPOT: You’re right Jacky-boy, brains. But I got brains too, and more than just half a one. How do I know you punks won’t run the first time some goon comes at ya with a club? How do I know you got what it takes to win?

JACK: Because I’m telling you, Spot.

SPOT: That ain’t good enough Jacky-boy. You gotta show me.

(The boys go back to Newsies Square, where the rest of the newsies wait.)

RACETRACK: Jack. So, where’s Spot?

JACK: He was concerned about us being serious. You imagine that?

RACETRACK: Well, Jack, maybe we ought to ease off a little. Without Spot and the others, there ain’t enough of us, Jack.

MUSH: Maybe we’re moving too soon. Maybe we ain’t ready, you know?

SKITTERY: I definitely think we should forget about it for a little while.

JACK: Oh, do ya?

SKITTERY: Yeah.

RACETRACK: Yeah, I mean, without Brooklyn… you know?

JACK: Spot was right, is this just a game to you guys?

(Begin Song)

DAVID: Open the gates and seize the day Don’t be afraid and don’t delay Nothing can break us No one can make us Give our rights away Arise and seize the day!

DAVID AND NEWSIES: Now is the time to seize the day Send out the call and join the fray

DAVID: Wrongs will be righted if we’re united

DAVID AND NEWSIES: Let us seize the day! Friends of the friendless seize the day Raise up the torch and light the way Proud and defiant We’ll slay the giant Let us seize the day

Neighbor to neighbor Father to son One for all and all for one! Open the gates and seize the day Don’t be afraid and don’t delay Nothing can break us No one can make us Give our rights away Neighbor to neighbor Father to son! One for all and all for one!

(The circulation bell begins to ring)

JACK Anybody hear that?

NEWSIES No!

JACK: So what are we gonna do about it?

NEWSIES: Soak ‘em!

(The newsies and the scabbers have a stand off. 3 scabs join with the newsies, but then a bug scab comes up against Jack. He tries to get by, but can’t. The newsies start soaking the scabs, who eventually run away. They tear up the newspapers. Jack starts making faces and blowing raspberries at Weasel, Oscar and Morris through the distribution window.)

MORRIS: I’m gonna crack your dome!

(The tearing of newspapers continue. A delivery cart is pushed onto it’s side. Weasel calls for the cops, who enter blowing whistles.)

JACK: Cheese it! Cheese it, it’s the bulls!

(All the newsies run, except Crutchy, who doesn’t notice)

RACETRACK: Crutchy! Scram! Scram!

(Crutchy starts to leave, but is blocked in by cops. He turns to find the Delancey brothers behind him. They knock his crutch aside and drag him away. Denton has been watching all of this. THAT NIGHT- Jack and David walk to the Refuge. Jack has a rope in his hands)

JACK: So here it is. The Refuge. My home, sweet home.

DAVID: How can you be sure they sent him here?

JACK: How can I be sure the Delancey’s stink? It’s just how things work, you know? An orphan gets arrested, Snyder makes sure he gets sent straight here, so he can rehabilitate him. The more kids in the Refuge, the more money the city sends to take care of them, the more Snyder sticks it in his pocket. He’s here.

DAVID: So how come you brought the rope?

(A carriage exits the Refuge. Jack and David hind in the shadows. As the guard talks with the nuns, the two boys sneak by. On the roof, David lowers Jack, who has the rope tied around his waist. Jack gets level with the window.)

JACK: Steady. Steady, Dave. That’s good.

(Jack knocks on the window. A boy around Les’s age opens it.)

TEN PIN: Hey. Cowboy. You miss the joint?

JACK: What do ya say, Ten Pin. You got a new guy in here. Crutchy.

TEN PIN: The gimp? I’ll get him for ya.

JACK: Hey Crutchy.

(With the help of a boy, Crutchy limps to the window.)

CRUTCHY: I don’t believe it. What are you hanging around here for?

JACK: What do you mean what am I hangin’ around here for? You know who’s on the roof?

CRUTCHY: Who?

JACK: Dave.

CRUTCHY: Is that Dave? Heya Dave! How ya doin’?

DAVID:: Shhh.

JACK: Listen, Crutchy, go get your stuff. We’re gonna get you outta here.

CRUTCHY: Well, actually, I ain’t walking so good. Oscar and Morris kindda worked me over a little bit, you know?

JACK: They hurt you? Don’t worry about it. Me and Dave, we can carry you outta here.

CRUTCHY: I don’t want nobody carrying me, you hear? Hey, Dave! You know, they still talk about how Jack rode outta here on that coach.

DAVID: Oh, yeah. Teddy Roosevelt’s, right?

CRUTCHY: You already heard the story.

DAVID: You mean it’s true?

CRUTCHY: Of course. Hey! Cheese it!

(Snyder enters and inspects the room. Jack swings to the side, out of site. As Snyder is about to look out the window, Crutchy grabs his arm.)

CRUTCHY: Mr. Warden Snyder, sir. You know, I was thinking. I’d just like you to know that when you were taking a nap this afternoon…

(Crutchy leads Snyder away from the window and Jack leaves. THE NEXT MORNING- Pulitzer, Weasel and Seitz are inside Pulitzer’s office.)

SEITZ: I don’t think they’re just going to go away, Chief.

WEASEL: Mr. Pulitzer, sir, just give me the means and I’ll take care of them for ya.

PULITZER: I’ll give you whatever means you require. I want this nonsense down with once and for all.

SEITZ: Chief…

PULITZER: Shut you mouth, Seitz

(Weasel and Seitz leave. Snyder looks out the window to the square where the newsies have gathered.)

NEWSIES: Open the gates and seize the day Don’t be afraid and don’t delay Nothing can break us No one can make us Give our rights away Arise and seize the day

(The boys dance in the square and block the entrance to the World building. A delivery cart rushes through. The newsies and scabs have another stand off.)

DAVID: Alright. Everyone remain calm.

JACK: Let’s soak ‘em for Crutchy!

(The newsies charge towards the scabs, who retreat. A large door opens and big men with clubs and chains come out)

RACETRACK: Jack! Jack!, the Crib!

(the men form a circle around Jack so none of the newsies can help him. The gates shut and Denton can’t get in to help.)

OSCAR: Heya Jacky-boy (Jack faces a man with a chain. Outside, Denton tried to get in.)

DENTON: Aren’t you going to stop them, sir?

POLICEMAN: Move along, mister.

(Just as all hope seems lost for Jack, a bunch of newsies appear on the rooftops, including Spot.)

SPOT: Never fear, Brooklyn is here.

MUSH: It’s Brooklyn!

(The newsies start to soak the Crib, the Brooklyn boys using their sling shots. Racetrack throws his hands in the air and sit on a ledge….)

RACETRACK: Hey, I give up. Alright, alright. I give up.

(…then kicks the guy *you know where*)

JACK: Hey, Spot!

(Shots of Newsies punching the scabs. First Racetrack, then Jack, Kid Blink and another. Skittery get hits and falls back. Newsies catch him)

DAVID: Are you alright?

(Before he can answer, the newsies push him back up and he punches the man back. Spot opens the gates and the Brooklyn gang join. They force the Crib back. The newsies cheer and tear some more papers. Denton enters with him camera.)

DENTON: Jack! Boys! Freeze! Freeze!

JACK: Alright guys

(Denton takes the picture. Jack is the only one ready for it. The others all have weird expressions on their faces. The picture turns black and white and appears on the cover of the New York Sun under the headline ‘The Children’s Crusade; Newsies Stop the World’. NEXT DAY- The newsies are in Tibby’s. Denton enters with the paper.)

DENTON: Hey fellas. Hey, hey! Big time.

BOOTS: What you got there Jack?

SPOT: Where’s me picture? Where’s me picture?

BOOTS: What’s that? That all about us?

MUSH: Look at that Jack. You look like a gentlemen

JACK: Will you get your fingers off me face?

SPOT: Where does it say my name? Where’s my name?

JACK: Will you quit thinking about yourself?

DAVID: You got us on the front page!

DENTON: You got yourselves on the front page. I just got to make sure you stay there.

SKITTERY: So what. You get your picture in the papes, so what’s that get you, huh?

MUSH: What are you talkin’ about?

JACK: Shut up, boy. You been in a bad mood all day!

SKITTERY: I’m not in a bad mood!

RACETRACK: Glum and dumb. What’s the matta with you?  You get your picture in the papes, your famous. Your famous, you get anything you want. That’s what so great about New York!

(Begin Song)

MUSH: A pair of new shoes with matching laces

RACETRACK: A permanent box at Sheepshed Races.

SPOT: A porcelain tub with boiling water

KID BLINK: A Saturday night with the mayor’s daughter!

RACETRACK: Look at me I’m the King of New York! Suddenly I’m respectable Staring right atcha Lousy with stature

JACK: Nubbin’ with all the muckety-mucks I’m blowin’ my dough and goin’ deluxe!

RACETRACK: And there I’ll be Ain’t I pretty?

RACETRACK & JACK: It’s my city I’m the king of New York!

BOOTS: A corduroy suit with fitted knickers

LES: A mezzanine seat to see the flickers

SNIPESHOOTER: Havana cigars that cost a quarter

DAVID: An editor’s desk for our star reporter!

NEWSIES: Tip your hat He’s the King of New York!

DENTON: How ‘bout that? I’m the King of New York!

NEWSIES: In nothing flat He’ll be covering Brooklyn to Trenton Our man Denton

KID BLINK: Making a headline out of a hunch

DENTON: Protecting the weak

RACETRACK: And paying for lunch

DENTON: When I’m at bat Strong men crumble

RACETRACK: Proud yet humble

DENTON & RACETRACK: I’m/He’s the King of New York

NEWSIES: I gotta be either dead or dreaming ’Cuz look at that pape with my face beaming Tomorrow they may wrap fishes in it But I was a star for one whole minute! Starting now I’m the King of New York!

DENTON: Ain’t you hear? I’m the King of New York!

NEWSIES: Holy cow! It’s a miracle Pulitzer’s crying Weasel? He’s dying! Flashpots are shooting bright as the sun I’m one hifalutin’ sonuva gun! Don’t ask me how Fortune found me Fate just crowned me Now I’m King of New York! Look and see Once a piker Now a striker I’m the Kin of New York! Victory! Front page story Guts and glory I’m the King of New York!

(The newsies cheer and gather around a table)

JACK: So, let’s have some ideas.

DAVID: Well, we gotta show people where we stand

JACK: Yeah, so we gotta stay in the papes.

DENTON: My paper’s the only one printing any strike news so far

JACK: So, we should do something that’s so big the other papers’ll feel stupid if they try to ignore us. Like a rally. A newsie rally with all the kids from all over New York. It’ll be the biggest, loudest, noisiest blow-out this town’s ever seen!

DAVID: We’ll send a message to the big boys

RACETRACK: Geesh, I’ll give ‘em a message.

(A waiter brings a tray of cokes. Each newsie grabs a glass.)

JACK: There’s a lot of us, and we ain’t going away. We’ll fight until damn Doomsday if it means we get a fair shake.

DAVID: Hey, guys. To out man Denton.

NEWSIES: Our man Denton!

(The newsies lift their glasses in a toast. IN THE REFUGE- Crutchy knocks on Snyder’s door and enters.)

CRUTCHY: Heya Mr. Snyder. How was your supper?

(As he begins to put the plates on a tray, Crutchy notices Snyder looking at the paper, particularly at Jack’s picture.)

CRUTCHY: Hey! That’s Jack. He looks just like himself.

SNYDER: You know this boy?

CRUTCHY: No.

SNYDER: You have a very famous friend, this Jack. Do you know where he lives?

CRUTCHY: I never heard of him, honest! It’s this brain of mine, it’s always making mistakes. It’s got a mind of it’s own. Can I get you anything else, Mr. Snyder? Good bye Mr. Snyder.

(Crutchy leaves, realizing his mistake. THAT NIGHT- The newsies are making signs for the rally. Dutchy’s sign says ‘STRIKE’)

DUTCHY: So, did I spell it right, Kloppman?

KLOPPMAN: Very good, very good.

(Snyder enters and starts going through Kloppman’s book)

KLOPPMAN: Excuse me. Can I help you?

SNYDER: You have a boy who calls himself Jack Kelly? I wish to see him

KLOPPMAN: Jack Kelly? Never heard of him. Never heard of him. Any of you boys ever hear of a Jack Kelly?

SPECS: That’s an unusual name for these parts.

(Jack enters, but Swifty stops him and points Snyder out to him)

RACETRACK: Oh, you mean Jack Kelly. Yeah, he was here, but he put an egg in his shoe and beat it.

SNYDER: I have reason to believe he’s an escaped prisoner, possibly dangerous.

KLOPPMAN: Oh, dangerous? I better look in my files. This way please.

(Kloppman distracts Snyder and Jack exits. The boys hold up signs to hide him)

RACETRACK: Give to the Newsies Strike fund, Mister?

(Snyder hands Racetrack a coin. THE NEXT MORNING- Sarah wakes up and looks out the window. She sees Jack on the fire escape)

SARAH: Did you sleep out there all night?

JACK: Yeah

SARAH: Why didn’t you wake us up?

JACK: Well, I didn’t want to disturb nobody. Besides, it’s like the Waldorph out here. Great view. Cool air

SARAH: Go up on the roof.

(Jack leaves so Sarah can get dressed. While he waits, he boxes with some stockings and steals a tomato off a plant. Sarah enters with a basket.)

SARAH: Are you hungry?

JACK: Yeah

SARAH: Good. I made you breakfast

(She lays down a clothe and gets the food and milk.)

SARAH: Papa’s so proud of you and David. You should hear him talking about Jack Kelly, strike leader, who occasionally takes his meal with us.

JACK: Well, this is one strike leader who’s gonna be very happy when it’s all over and I can get outta here and go to Santa Fe. I mean, there’s nothing for me to stay for, is there? You know, you should se Santa Fe, everything’s different there. It’s all bigger. The desert, the sky, the sun

SARAH: It’s the same sun as here

JACK: Yeah, it just looks different

SARAH: I should get ready for work

JACK: Sarah? I’m just not used to having whether I stay or whether I go matta to anybody. I’m not saying it should matta to you. I’m just saying, well, does it? Matta?

(Pulitzer is in his office with the Mayor, the Police Chief, Snyder and Seitz. He is looking at the paper and has Jack’s face circled.)

MAYOR: Of course, the city is very concerned that this event doesn’t get out of hand. But…Chief?

CHIEF: We can’t just charge in there and break it up, Mr. Pulitzer. We’ve got no legal cause.

MAYOR: Legal cause.

PULITZER: Would the fact that this rally is organized by an escaped criminal be cause enough, mayor?

MAYOR: Escaped criminal?

PULITZER: A fugitive from one of your prisons, mayor. A convicted thief. Been living at large for some time under the allis of Jack Kelly. What’s his real name?

SNYDER: Sullivan. Francis Sullivan. Your honor. I would have caught him before now, but..

PULITZER: You know Warder Snyder, don’t you mayor? I believe you know him because you appointed him.

MAYOR: Yes. Well, if this boy’s a fugitive then the chief can quietly arrest him.

PULITZER: No, no, no, no! Not quietly! Not quietly! I want an example made. I want this rabble he’s roused to see what happens to those who would dare to lead. They should see justice and action.

MAYOR: Arrest him at the rally?

PULITZER: By the way, mayor, a few friends for cards tonight. Newspaper friends. Billy Hearst, Gordon Bennett. Perhaps you’ll join us.  Talk about the coming election.

MAYOR: I’d be honored.

(Newsies are gathering outside Irving Hall. Inside, Jack, David and Spot are on stage. Jack quiets everyone)

JACK: Carryin’ the banner!

(The newsies stand up and cheer.

MEANWHILE- In Pulitzer’s study, men are sitting at a table, playing cards. Pulitzer leads the mayor around the table)

PULITZER: You know Gordon, mayor. Mr. Bennett of the Tribune. Mr. Taylor of the Times. Of course, you know Mr. Hearst. This is a new member of our little group, Mr. Gammon. He just came back from Europe. Mr. Gammon owns the New York Sun.

(Back in the theater, Jack is giving a speech.)

JACK: So, we’ve come a long way, but we ain’t there yet and maybe it’s only gonna get tougher from now on. But that’s fine, we’ll just get tougher with it. But also, we gotta get smart and start listening to my pal David, who says ‘stop soakin’ the scabs’.

RACETRACK: What are we supposed to do to the bums? Kiss ‘em?

SPOT: Any scab I see I soak ‘em. Period.

DAVID: No, no. That’s what they want us to do. If we get violent, it’s just playing into their hands.

SPOT: Hey, look. They’re gonna be playing with my hands, alright. 'Cuz it ain’t what they say, it’s what we say. And nobody ain’t gonna listen to us unless we make ‘em.

(Newsies in the crowd take different sides and start to argue.)

JACK: You got no brains. Why we starting to fight each other? It’s just what the big shot’s wanna see. That we’re street rats! Street rats with no brain’s. No respect for nothing, including ourselves! So, here’s how it’s gonna be. If we don’t act together, then we’re nothing. If we don’t stick together, then we’re nothing. And if we can’t even trust each other, then we’re nothing.

KID BLINK: Tell ‘em Jack!

JACK: So, what’s it gonna be?

RACETRACK: We’re with you Jack.

JACK: So, what about you, Spot?

SPOT: I say that what you say is what I say.

(The spit-shake. All the newsies cheer. The curtains open and Medda enters. The cheering gets louder.)

MEDDA & NEWSIES: High times, hard times Sometimes the living is sweet And sometimes there’s nothing to eat But I always land on my feet So when there’s dry times I wait for high times and then I put on my best And I stick out my chest And I’m off to the race’s again!

MEDDA: Hello, newsies. What’s new?

(Outside, the Crib and police are gathering. Snyder enters)

MEDDA: So your old lady don’t love you no more So you’re afraid there’s a wolf at your door So you’ve got street rats that scream in your ear

MEDDA & NEWSIES: You win some, you lose some my dear, Oh… High times, hard times Sometimes the living is sweet And sometimes there’s nothing to eat But I always land on my feet So when there’s dry times I wait for high times and then I put on my best And I stick out my chest And I’m off to the races again

MEDDA: I put on my best!

NEWSIES: I put on my best!

MEDDA: And I stick out my chest

NEWSIES: And I sticks out my chest

MEDDA: And I’m off

NEWSIES: And I’m off

MEDDA: And I’m off

NEWSIES: And I’m off

MEDDA: And I’m off

ALL: To the races again!

(The police block off the entrance to the theater. Denton sees Snyder and tries to keep him busy)

DENTON: Excuse me. Aren’t you Warden Snyder? Bryan Denton of the Sun. How do you do, sir?

(David sees Snyder and tells Spot)

DENTON: I heard about your wonderful work with the children and I wondered if I might get an interview with you

(David rushes through the crowd to Jack)

DAVID: Jack! Jack! It’s Snyder!

JACK: What?

DAVID: It’s Snyder. Right there!

(Denton tries to distract Snyder one more time. This time with his camera)

DENTON: Let me get that correct. That’s Snyder, as in snide? Smile sir!

(The flash blinds him for a minute, then he blows his whistle.)

JACK: Medda, thanks. I gotta run.

(Cops come in and the newsies scatter. Jack take’s Sarah’s hand and pulls her through the crowd. Racetrack gets Medda to safety and start to leave)

MEDDA: No! Stay with me!

(A huge man kicks Racetrack in the stomach and punches him out. Medda breaks away from her maid and slaps the man)

MEDDA: No! No! For God’s sake! He’s just a child! Can’t you see that? Racetrack!

(Medda is pulled back and Racetrack is dragged away. Jack and David get Sarah and Les to safety. Then turn back to fight. Everywhere they go, they are surrounded by cops or the crib. By Medda’s swing, they meet up with Snyder. David sits on the swing.)

DAVID: Push me!

(Jack shoves David, who hits Snyder in the face.)

DAVID: Get out of here! Go!

(Jack runs as David and some other newsies hold Snyder off. Jack and Kid Blink run outside and find they are surrounded by cops. One of them grabs for Jack, but Kid Blink shoves him away.)

KID BLINK: Beat it!

(Jack runs back inside. Kid Blink gets hit with a club and is dragged away. Jack starts to run up the stairs, but a man meets him at the top and punches him in the chin. Jack falls back and is caught by cops. THE NEXT DAY- the newsies are in court.)

BAILIFF: All rise. All rise. Court is now in session. Judge E.A. Monahan presiding. MONAHAN: Are any of you boys represented by council? No? Good, that will move things along considerably.

SPOT: Hey, yer honor, I object!

MONAHAN: On what grounds?

SPOT: On the grounds of Brooklyn, yer honor.

(The newsies crack up laughing. Monahan bangs on his desk.)

MONAHAN: I fine each of you five dollars, or two weeks confinement in the House of Refuge.

RACETRACK: Whoa. We ain’t got five bucks. We don’t even got five cents. Hey, yer honor, how ‘bout I roll you for it. Double or nothing?

MONAHAN: Alright. Move along, move along.

(Denton, David and Les enter)

DENTON: Your honor, I’ll pay the fines. All of them.

DAVID: Hey, you fellas alright? Where’s Jack?

DENTON: Look, we’ve got to meet at the restaurant. Everybody. We have to talk.

MONAHAN: Pay the clerk. Move it along.

(Jack is lead in, handcuffed)

JACK: Hey fellas!

RACETRACK: Hey, Cowboy! Nice shiner!

JACK: Hey, Denton. I guess we made all the papes this time. So, how’s my picture look?

DENTON: None of the papers covered the rally. Not even the Sun.

BAILIFF: Case of Jack Kelly. Inciting a riot. Assault. Resisting arrest.

SNYDER: Judge Monahan, I’ll speak for this young man.

JACK: You two know each other. Ain’t that nice.

MONAHAN: Just move it along, Warden Snyder.

SNYDER: This boy’s real name is Francis Sullivan. His mother’s deceased. His father’s a convict in the state penitentiary. He’s an escapee from the House of Refuge where his original sentence for three months was extended to six moths for disruptive behavior.

JACK: Like demanding we eat the food you steal from us.

SNYDER: Followed by an additional six months for attempted escape.

JACK: Attempted? Last time it wasn’t an attempted escape. Remember Snyder? Remember me and Teddy Roosevelt? Remember Roosevelt and the carriage?

SNYDER: Therefore, I ask that he be returned to the House of Refuge.

JACK: What? For my own good, right? Move it along? For my own good and for what he kicks back to you!

SNYDER: I ask that the court order his incarceration until the age of twenty-one, in the hope that we may yet guide him to a useful and productive life.

MONAHAN: So ordered.

LES: No!

(Jack is led away. Snyder follows, then turns and smiles at the judge. LATER- The newsies sit in Tibby’s. Denton enters. They greet him)

DAVID: Why didn’t the Sun print the story?

DENTON: Because it never happened

RACETRACK: What do you mean it never happened? You were there!

KID BLINK: You wrote it!

DENTON: It’s not in the papers, it never happened. The owners decreed it not be in the papers, therefore… I came to tell you fellas good bye.

DAVID: What happened? Did you get fired or something?

DENTON: No, I got reassigned back to my old job as the Sun’s ace war correspondent. They want me to leave right away. The owner thinks I should only cover the really important stories. Wish me luck fellas. At least half of what I wish for you. They don’t always fire. I would be black balled from every paper in the country. I’m a newspaper man. I have to have a paper to write for. This is the story I wrote about the rally. I want you to read it at least. This should cover it

(Denton pays the waiter and leaves. David crumples the story up and throws it on a table)

DAVID: We get Jack out of the Refuge tonight. From now on, we trust no one but the newsies.

(The newsies get up and leave. Les uses Denton’s article to wrap his unfinished hot dog in. THAT NIGHT- David, Les, Mush, Kid Blink, Racetrack and Boots sneak into the Refuge’s gates. Kid Blink had a rope.)

DAVID: That’s the window where we saw Crutchy

(They are about to move when they see Snyder leading Jack into a carriage.)

LES: It’s Jack!

MUSH: Where they takin’ him Dave?

DAVID: Only one way to find out. I’ll meet you guys at the square. Racetrack, watch him.

(David hides in the back of the carriage, which goes to Pulitzer’s house. Seitz is waiting outside for them.)

SEITZ: Get him inside

(Snyder takes Jack’s arm and leads him in. David pulls out the pin that attaches the horses to the carriage. INSIDE- Seitz leaves Jack in Pulitzer’s study. Pulitzer enters.)

PULITZER: Sit. Know what I was doing at your age, boy? I was in a war. The Civil War.

JACK: Yeah, I heard of it. So, didja win?

PULITZER: People think war is about right or wrong and not power.

JACK: Yeah, I heard of that too. I don’t just sell your papes, Joe. Sometime I read ‘em.

PULITZER: Power of the press is the greatest power of them all. I tell this city how to think. I tell this city how to vote. I shape it’s future.

JACK: Yeah? Well, right now I’m only thinking about one future, and that’s mine.

PULITZER: So am I boy. I have the power to see you stay locked in the Refuge

JACK: And I have the power to break out again.

PULITZER: Or, I can see you released tomorrow, free and clear, with more money in your pockets than you can earn in three lifetimes.

JACK: Are you bribin’ me, Joe?

PULITZER: No

JACK: Well, it’s been real nice chattin’ with ya, Joe. But I got to be goin’ now.

PULITZER: You listen to me, boy. You just shut your mouth and listen to me! You shut up and listen to me for once! No game I’m playing.  You work for me til the strike’s over, and it will end, boy, make no mistake, with or without you. Then you go where ever you want to buy a ticket for. Away from the Refuge, these foul streets. Free. With money to spend and nobody chasing you.

JACK: We must have you scared pretty bad, old man

PULITZER: I offer you freedom and money just to work for me again. To your friends, I won’t be so kind. Now, you’re partner, what’s his name? David. I understand he has a family. What do you think the Refuge will do to him? And it will be you who put him there. And all the others, after all, you’re their leader. Go back to the Refuge tonight, think about it. Give me your answer in the morning.

(Jack leaves. As he is being taken outside, Snyder lets go of him for one second)

DAVID: Jack! Come on! Come on!

(Jack slides down the railing and jumps over it. He and David take off)

SNYDER: After him!

(The driver whips the horses, who take off without the carriage.)

SEITZ: Don’t worry. He’s got no place to go

(David and Jack run into an alley. Jack slows down)

DAVID: Come on! Keep running!

JACK: You shouldn’t have done this, Dave. They could put you in jail

DAVID: I don’t care

JACK: Come here. What about your family? What happened to them if you go in jail. You don’t know nothing about jail. Now, thanks for what you done, but you get out of here

DAVID: I don’t understand

JACK: I don’t understand either, but just get outta here!

DAVID: No!

JACK: Go!

(David turns slowly and walks away. Jack leans against a wall.  Suddenly, he’s leaning against a wall in the Refuge.)

JACK: Santa Fe My old friend I can’t spend my whole life hidin’ You’re the only light that’s guidin’ me today

(Crutchy opens a little slot in the door. He has a potato)

CRUTCHY: Psst! Jack! Look! I snitched it off Snyder’s plate while I was serving him. It’s the biggest one. Oh, Mr. Snyder was eating good tonight. You know the stuff that we don’t ever get? He got potatoes, olives, liver, bacon, sauerkraut. And guess what I done to his sauerkraut, huh?

JACK: So, what’d it get ya?

CRUTCHY: Oh, anudder three months, probably, but you can’t let ‘em get you, right Jack? That’s what you always said...

JACK: We was beat when we was born

(Crutchy frowns and closes the slot)

JACK: Will you keep a candle burnin’ Will you help me find my way? You’re my chance to break free And who knows when my next one will be Santa Fe, Wait for me

(The newsies are picketing outside the World building.)

NEWSIES: Stop the World! No more papes! Stop the World! No more papes! (etc.)

(The police form a barricade. Some of the newsies start to fight amongst themselves.)

DAVID: Race! Help me! I need some help!

RACETRACK: Alright! I ain’t deaf!

SPOT: Hey, hey, hey! Break it up. Hey, Race, come here.

(Weasel leads Jack out. He’s in a new suit)

RACETRACK: What?

SPOT: Just tell me I’m seeing things. Just tell me I’m seeing things.

RACETRACK: No, you ain’t seeing things. That’s Jack. What’s he doing?

SPOT: He’s dressed like a scabber!

MUSH: Jack? Jack, look at me, will ya? Come on, it’s me, Mush. Look at me. What are you doin’, Jack?

KID BLINK: This ain’t happening. This can’t be happening. What are you doin’ Jack? Come on, what are you doin’?

BOOTS: Come on. What is this? Where’d you get them clothes?

WEASEL: Mr. Pulitzer picked them out himself. A special gift to a special new employee.

SPOT: He sold us out!

RACETRACK: I’ll give you a new suit! You bum! I’ll soak ya!

SPOT: Hey, hey, hey! Let me get my hands dirty. Come here you dirty rotten scabber! Traitor!

(Some newsies pull Spot away. David stares at Jack)

WEASEL: Aww. You wanna talk to him? Come on, come on. Sure. Got right ahead.

(David walks up to Jack)

DAVID: So, this is why you didn’t escape last night. You’re a liar! You lied about everything. You lied about your father being out west, ‘cause he’s not out west! You didn’t even tell me your real name!

JACK: So? What you wanna do about it Dave?

DAVID: I don’t understand you.

JACK: Oh, so let me spell it out for ya. You see, I ain’t got nobody tucking me in at night, like you. It’s just me, I gotta look out for myself.

DAVID: You had the newsies..

JACK: Oh, what’d being a newsies ever give me but a dime a day and a few black eyes? You know, I can’t afford to be a kid no more, Dave.  For the first time in my life, I got money in my pockets. Real money. Money, you understand? I got more on the way and as soon as I collect, I’m gone, I’m away. Alright?

DAVID: Well, that’s good. That’s good because we don’t need you! We don’t need you! All those words you said, those were mine.

JACK: Yeah, but you never had the guts to put them across yourself, didja?

DAVID: I do now

(Dave starts to go back to the newsies, then turns to look at Jack again.)

JACK: What’sa matta? Got a problem?

(David rushes towards Jack, but Weasel and a few policemen pull him away.)

WEASEL: Maybe you’d like a new suit of your own, huh?

DAVID: Never! Never!

WEASEL: Get outta here! Get outta here!

DAVID: I’m not like you!

(The cops surround Jack so the newsies can’t get him. The newsies watch him go.)

SPOT: Traitor!

KID BLINK: You make me sick!

BOOTS: I trusted you!

RACETRACK: Seize the day, huh Jack?

LES: He’s foolin’ ‘em, so he can spy on ‘em or something. Yeah, yeah, that’s it. He’s foolin’ ‘em!

RACETRACK: Yeah, he’s spying on then, kid.

(Sarah is going through a pile of lace. She finds Les’s old hot dog)

SARAH: Les. What is this?

LES: Savin’ it

(He takes the hot dog and leaves the article in Sarah’s hands. She looks at it.)

SARAH: David. It’s Denton’s article. ‘The Dark Truth; Why Our City Really Fears The Newsies Strike’ by Bryan Denton. ‘Last night I saw naked force exercised against mere boys, the newsies, who were…’

(David climes out the window, slams it, then storms off the fire escape. THAT NIGHT-Weasel leads Jack to his new bedroom, the basement of the World building.)

WEASEL: One trick, Cowboy, and it’s right back to the Refuge. Please.

(He throws a dust covered sheet to Jack.)

WEASEL: Ah. You gonna be requiring anything this evening?  Huh? No? Aww..tick tick. Well then, I ought to be saying good night.  Remember, on trick and I go straight to Mr. Pulitzer.

(He exits, leaving Jack alone. MORNING- Jack goes to collect his papers. Oscar and Morris come up behind him.)

WEASEL: Sleep well Cowboy?

OSCAR: Come with us Cowboy. We’re gonna go fix you’re pal, Davey. Fix him so he can’t walk.

MORRIS: Shut up

(Jack starts to go after them.)

WEASEL: Ah! Lift one finger and it’s right back to the Refuge. Next!

(Jack picks up his papers and leaves. LATER THAT MORNING- Sarah is walking to work with Les. She has a basket full of lace.)

SARAH: Morning LADY: Good mornin’, dear.

(Oscar ‘bumps’ into her)

OSCAR: ’Cuse me, Sweetface.

(She continues to walk with Oscar behind her. Morris steps out in front of her.)

MORRIS: Where’s your little brother, Tootsie? Where’s little Davey?

(Sarah tries to get by, but the brothers push her around.)

LES: Leave my sister alone!

(He shoves Oscar. Morris holds onto Sarah while Oscar pushed Les into a puddle.)

SARAH: Stop it! Leave him alone!

(Oscar shoves Les into a pile of baskets. Sarah shoves Morris away.)

SARAH: You stupid ape.

(She punches him, but it doesn’t hurt him. She runs into the alley. The brothers catch her. David sees Les and helps him up.)

DAVID: What’s the matter? Are you alright?

LES: I’m alright, I’m alright. Help Sarah!

SARAH: Run Davey!

OSCAR: Yeah, run Davey. We got the best part of your family right here.

(David tackles Oscar.)

SARAH: Let go of me!

(Morris throws her to the ground. Oscar punches David)

SARAH: Stop it! Les! Stop, you’re hurting him! No!

(Morris pulls out a pair of brass knuckles and puts them on.)

SARAH: Leave him alone!

(Oscar continues to punch David. Les runs to Sarah. Jack is walking down the street near the alley.)

SARAH: Stop it! Leave him alone!

(Jack hears her cries and runs, dropping his papers as he goes. Oscar holds David as Morris gets ready to hit him with the knuckles.  Jack comes up behind Morris and punches him. David gives Oscar an elbow in the stomach. Jack throws Morris into a box)

JACK: Get over here.

(Jack grabs Oscar)

JACK: Remember Crutchy?

(Jack head-butts him and he falls near Morris. Jack goes to help Sarah up)

JACK: You alright?

SARAH: Yeah.

(The hug briefly)

SARAH: David!

(Jack goes to David and checks him out before helping him up. Oscar and Morris finally get up.)

MORRIS: You’d better run, Cowboy. We’re gonna tell uncle Weas. You’ll be back in the Refuge before suppertime!

OSCAR: Run, you lousy coward, run!

(Jack starts to go after them, but Sarah stops him. Les runs to the end of the alley.)

LES: Go one! Get outta here! Don’t come back! You hear me?

DAVID: What? You couldn’t stay away?

JACK: Well, I guess I can’t be something I ain’t.

DAVID: A scab?

JACK: No, smart.

(The four of them go to Denton’s apartment. Jack knocks on the door. Denton opens it.)

JACK: Did you mean what you wrote here? ‘Bout all these sweat shop kids listening to me?

DENTON: I don’t write anything I don’t mean. Come on in. I’m just packing a few things.

(They enter. David closes the door.)

DENTON: So, yes, I mean it. The city thrives on child labour. A lot of people make money that way. They’re terrified that the newsies strike will spread.

JACK: Well, there’ really not much chance of that as long as they got the power

DENTON: Sometimes, all it takes is a voice, one voice. Then a thousand. Unless it’s silenced.

JACK: Why can’t we spread the strike? Have another big rally and get the word out to all the sweat shop kids? Why not?

DAVID: What are we going to do? Print an ad in the newspaper?

JACK: No! We’ll do better than that. We’ll make our own paper. We tell ‘em they gotta join us. Isn’t that a good idea?

DAVID: Yeah, it is. But what do we know about printing a newspaper?

JACK: Nothing, but our man Denton…

DAVID: Yeah, but our man Denton has something more important to do. He’s going to be an ace war correspondent, right Denton?

DENTON: Alright. Where do we start?

(They sit at a table)

JACK: Alright, we gotta move fast. Now, we’ll need the newsies to circulate.

DENTON: There’s something else that we need. We need a printing press.

JACK: Just so happens I know a guy with a printing press.

(Jack, Sarah, David and Denton enter the basement of the World building.)

SARAH: You’ve been living here?

JACK: Shh. They’re right above us. Weasel catches us here, we’re all in the slammer.

(Jack uncovers a press)

DENTON: Alright! A Platen press. Looks like old man Pulitzer never threw anything away.

DAVID: Is it going to work?

DENTON: It better. We have a deadline.

(They start printing their papers.)

DENTON: This is the story you wanted to write, well tonight is the night that you can

JACK: Just get this done and by dawn’t early light you can finish the fight you began

DAVID: This time we’re in it to stay

SARAH: Think about seizing the day

JACK: Think of that train as she rolls into old Santa Fe   Tell her I’m on my way

NEWSIES: See old man Pulitzer snug in his bed He don’t care if we’re dead or alive Three satin pillows are under his head While we’re begging for bread to survive Joe, if you’re still counting sheep Wake up and read ‘em and weep You’ve got your thugs With their sticks and their slugs Yeah, but we got a promise to keep Once and for all Something tells me the tide will be turning Once and for all There’s a fire inside me that wont stop burning Now that the choices are clear Now that tomorrow is here Watch how the mighty will fall For once and for all!

(Jack hands bundles of papers to the newsies. Denton and Jack crawl out the window.)

DENTON: It’s awfully nice of Mr. Pulitzer to let us use his press

JACK: Yeah, I just hope I get to thank him for it someday.

(The newsies spread out and hand the papers to various work kids.)

NEWSIES: This is for kids shining shoes on the streets With no shoes on their feet everyday This is for guys sweating blood in the shops While their bosses and cops look away This is to even the score We ain’t just newsies no more This ain’t just kids with some pie in the sky This is do it or die This is war! Once and for all We’ll be there to defend one another Once and for all Every kid is a friend Every friend a brother Five thousand fists in the sky Five thousand reasons to try We’re going over the wall Better to die than to crawl Either we stand or we fall For once Once and for all!

(Denton is with Teddy Roosevelt, who has just read the Newsies Banner)

ROOSEVELT: Disgraceful, Denty. Those poor boys.

DENTON: I thought you’d feel this way, Governor.

ROOSEVELT: And I did nothing, until now

DENTON: Good.

(They shake hands and Roosevelt is handed his hat and walking stick. LATER THAT DAY- The newsies have gathered around the Horace Greeley statue None of the work kids have showed up.)

MUSH: So, when's the others coming, kid?

JACK: They ain’t coming. Ain’t gonna be nobody but us.

SNITCH: Come on, Jack.

SPECS: Have hope, Jack.

(Les walks away from the group.)

LES: When the circulation bell starts ringing, will we hear it?

RACETRACK: Nah. What if the Delancey’s come out swinging, will we hear it?

LES: No!

RACETRACK: That a boy!

WORK KIDS: When you’ve got a million voices singing Who can hear a lousy whistle blow? And the World will know!

(Work kids come in from all directions. The newsies cheer. Spot enters, leading in all of the Brooklyn kids.)

SPOT: Brooklyn!

NEWSIES & WORK KIDS: The World will feel the fire and finally know!

(Everyone cheers. The newsies and Sarah make their way threw the crowd.)

WORK KIDS: Strike! Strike! Strike! (etc.)

(The newsies make their way to the front of the World Building.)

RACETRACK: Dear me. What have we here?

(Seitz and a group of policemen are by the entrance, looking out into the crowd. INSIDE- Pulitzer is at his desk. Seitz brings in Jack and David. Jonathan grabs his arm and whispers.)

JONATHAN: It’s awful. Everyone’s calling. Mr. Hearst, and Mr. Bennett, and the mayor in such awful language. The city’s at a stand still and they all blame the chief. It’s like the end of the World, only I didn’t say that.

(Jack and David go to Pulitzer’s desk, where Jack pulls out a copy of the newspaper.)

JACK: Extry, extry, Joe. Read all about it.

PULITZER: I promised that if you defied me, I’d break you. I’ll keep that promise, boy. Now, I gave you a chance to be free. I don’t understand. Anyone who doesn’t act in their own self interest is a fool.

DAVID: Then what does that make you?

PULITZER: What?

JACK: Oh, this is my pal, Davey. The Walkin’ mouth

DAVID: You talk about self interest, but since the strike, your circulation’s been down 70%. Everyday you’re losing thousands of dollars just to beat us out of one lousy tenth of a cent. Why?

JACK: You see, it ain’t about the money, Dave. It Joe gives in to nobodies like us, it means we got the power. And he can’t do that, no matter what it costs. Am I right, Joe?

PULITZER: I sent for the police. They must be here by now. Send them in, Seitz

JACK: I’m not going back to jail, Joe. Look out here. Right out here is where the power is.

(Jack opens the window. All the kids are still yelling Pulitzer covers his ears)

PULITZER: Close the window! Close the window! Go home! Go home! Go home!

JACK: I can’t hear you , Joe!

PULITZER: Go home! Go home to your mothers and fathers! Go home!

JACK: I don’t hear ya!

PULITZER: Now you listen to me!

JACK: Maybe you should listen!

PULITZER: No, no! You listen to me!

JACK: No! You listen!

PULITZER: Close the window and shut up!

JACK: There’s a lot of people out there and they ain’t just gonna go away. They got voices now and they’re goin’ be listen to. Putting them in jail is not going to stop them! That’s the power of the press, Joe.

(He closes the window. Pulitzer takes his hands away from his ears)

JACK: So thanks for teaching me about it.

SEITZ: Those kids put out a pretty good paper there Chief.

(Pulitzer picks up the paper and reads it.)

PULITZER: I ordered a printing ban on all strike matters. Now, who defied me? Who’s press did you use to print this on? Who’s?

JACK: Well, we only use the best, Joe. So, I just want to say, thanks again.

(Outside, Seitz’s opens the gates. David starts to come out, Jack is behind him.)

SPOT: Hey, fellas, they’re over here!

(The newsies gather around and start asking questions.   Jack bends over and whispers in Les’s ear.)

JACK: The strike’s over. We beat ‘em.

(Jack lifts Les onto his shoulders and look out towards all the children.)

JACK: We beat ‘em!

(The crowd cheers. All the newsies hug and pat each other on the back Weasel, Oscar and Morris put on their hats and leave. A paddy wagon pulls up. Snyder is sitting in the front seat with two cops.)

LES: Jack! Jack, it’s the bulls. It’s the bulls. Let me down!

SWIFTY: Down Jack. Get down!

KID BLINK: Hide Jack

DENTON: Jack, it’s over. No, no. You don’t have to run. Not anymore. Not from the likes of him. Come on, Come on.

(A cop opens the paddy wagon and the kids from the Refuge come out. The last one is Crutchy. A cop leads Snyder into the paddy wagon. Crutchy taps him on the back.)

CRUTCHY: Ah, remember what I told ya, Mr. Snyder. The first thing ya do in jail, make friends with the rats. Share what you got in common.

(Snyder climes in. A police officer is about to close the door.)

CRUTCHY: Officer, may I please?

POLICE OFFICER: Sure kid.

(Crutchy hands his crutch to a kid. He slams the door and locks it. He gets his crutch back and goes over to Jack and the others.)

JACK: Heya Crutchy.

DENTON: You won’t be seeing much of him anymore. Say goodbye Warden.

NEWSIES: Goodbye Warden!

(The paddy wagon pulls away)

CRUTCHY: Oh, Jack, you ought tah seen it! He comes stormin’ into the Refuge waving his walking stick like a sword and he’s leading in this army of lawyers and cops.

JACK: Who comes stormin’ in?

CRUTCHY: You know, your friend. Him! Teddy Roosevelt

(the newsies are amazed)

DENTON: The Governor’s very grateful that you brought this problem to his attention. I said you might need a lift somewhere. He’d be happy to oblige. Anywhere you want. And this time, you ride inside.

JACK: So, can he drop me at the train-yards?

DENTON: Yeah, if that’s what you want.

(They make their way to Roosevelt’s carriage. Jack shakes his hand and climes in. Boots throws Jack a bag. David, Les and Sarah watch sadly. The work kids follow the carriage as it leaves, leaving the newsies alone. The circulation bell begins to ring.)

MUSH: Try Bottle Alley or the harbor

RACETRACK: Try Central Park, it’s guaranteed

CRUTCHY: Try any banker, bum or barber

KID BLINK: They almost all knows how tah read

BOOTS: Summer stinks

SKITTERY: And winter’s waiting

SPECS, BUMLETS & SNIPESHOOTER: Welcome to New York

SNODDY, PIE EATER, SWIFTY, ITEY & JAKE: Boy ain’t nature fascinating

NEWSIES: When youse gotta walk

(The newsies line up for their papers. David is first in line. He slaps down a coin.)

DAVID: Hundred papes.

MUSH: Alright Davey.

(The newsies hear cheers and turn to see the carriage returning. All the work kids are following.)

MUSH: Dave, he’s back!

JACK: Thanks for the advice, Governor. Like you said, I still got things to do. Besides, I got family here.

(He gets out of the carriage and gives Les his cowboy hat. All the newsies yell and talk at the same time.)

JACK: So, how’s the headline today?

DAVID: Headlines don’t sell papes, newsies sell papes.

JACK: Come here, Davey.

(Jack holds out his hand. David spits in his and shakes it. Sarah makes her way through the crowd. Her and Jack kiss. All the newsies cheer and yell. The carriage pulls away, with Roosevelt and Spot in it. Spot tips his hat and waves as he leaves.)

SARAH: Bye Spot!

JACK: Go back to Brooklyn ya hear!

(David, Jack, Sarah, Les and Crutchy follow the carriage. Denton shakes David’s hand, then goes to the side and starts writing. The newsies, with their papers, dance as they leave.)

GROUP 1: It’s a fine life Carryin’ the banner It’s a fine life Carryin’ the banner It’s a fine life Carryin’ the banner It’s a fine life Carryin’the banner

GROUP 2: You got ‘em, Cowboy You showed ‘em how boy! You got ‘em Cowboy You showed ‘em how boy!

[leverage-commentary]

Leverage Season 2, Episode 3, The Order 23 Job, Audio Commentary Transcript

Dean: Hi, I'm Dean Devlin, Executive Producer.

John: John Rodgers, Executive Producer.

Chris: Chris Downey, Executive Producer and Writer, and this is: The Order 23 Job.

John: Writer of this episode.

Chris: Yes.

John: That's right, this is number two written, number two aired.

Chris: Yes. Now- yeah this is- we meet our bad guy here, in this scene. His name is Eddie Maranjian, he's played by an actor Melik Malkasian, and Dean, you discovered him.

Dean: Well when we got to Portland, we wanted to see some of the local talent, so we went to an improv group and he was really one of the outstanding performers in the improv group. So when you wrote the part, I saw that it was Armenian; I remembered that I'd seen an Armenian actor and he came in and he just knocked it out of the park.

John: Now this is about affinity crimes this episode. And this- and by the way, this happens- takes place in the fictional town of Bellbridge, Massachusetts, which we chose for episode two. Bellbridge, Mass has become our fictional city in Leverage where just bad things happen. In the season finale it’s actually-

Chris: It's a cesspool of evil.

John: It's a cesspool of evil and corruption and remember we like- we're gonna do an episode where an entire town is corrupt. Well, we've already slandered Bellbridge; might as well get our money's worth. Tell me why you chose an Armenian villain here other than your hatred of all things Armenian.

Chris: Well, you know, we were very influenced by the Bernie Madoff scandal, and one of the things that came out of that was people asking the question: how were these people duped into investing all their money and losing it in a Ponzi scheme? And the original Ponzi scheme was named after Charles Ponzi who was an Italian immigrant in 1920 who preyed on fellow Italian immigrants in a scheme- in a Ponzi scheme; subsequent investors of the scheme pay off the previous investors. And so we wanted to kind of explore - how could people be duped like that? And we kind of decided, well let's do an Armenian bad guy, kind of arbitrary, just to sort of, take a little bit of that-

John: Well it’s the same close knit community, a lot of financial- many people don't know, but a lot of America- a lot of big developments in the Midwest are actually developed by Armenians.

Chris: Yes. Yes.

Dean: Well this episode was directed by Rod Hardy, who in season one directed the terrific episode The 12 Step Job, and he, again, knocked it out. He's an Australian director, friend of our DP Dave Connell who introduced us to him, and he's really become a great friend of the show and part of the extended Leverage family.

John: Now this show, interestingly, really shows off the glory that is Portland. Because we had a court house episode last year, the Juror Number 6 Job, where we built the courtroom on our soundstage in an old aluminium milling plant in the valley in LA. Where they’re probably shooting porn now.

[Laughter]

John: Meanwhile, the lovely city of Portland gave us access to all these government buildings, so we can do long walk and talks down massive government corridors.

Dean: And real courtrooms.

Chris: Many cities have the old federal courthouse- there are great stately federal courthouses built in the early 20th century, the 1920s, and then the new federal courthouse. And the old federal courthouses just kind of sit there, and we saw this when we did a location scout before the season started, and it was in the back of my head when conceiving this episode.

John: This episode was also born of one of the first ideas we put up on the wall of cards. If you listen to first season commentary, you know Chris and I - before we hired the writers - started throwing around- just throwing up cards on a wall of just stuff we always wanted to do on heist shows. And one of the things we were talking about was a great old Mission Impossible episode where they convince a guy that the end of the world has come.

Chris: Yes.

John: They do so through a periscope and some cunningly developed models.

[Laughter]

John: We realized that, probably, modern audiences were too sophisticated for the telescope, but we took the idea of convincing a guy that the apocalypse had come and kinda ran with it a very cool post-modern way.

Chris: I mean, if you look at, sort of, the headlines that were running at the time this was conceived, it was Bernie Madoff and swine flu. And that basically, this episode is the marriage of those two things.

John: So as you can tell, it takes really no training to be a television writer. Just pick two random things from the newspaper and combine them and then you have an episode. 

[Laughter]

John: They're talking about the cupcake, nice, soft federal prison he's going to. Interestingly, right after this, they stopped sending these guys to the prisons. Just because I think the idea that these guys had brought the entire world to the brink of financial ruin meant that they can no longer skate away- Bernie Madoff actually got into his first prison fight a little ago.

Chris: Oh, really?

Dean: In an argument over Wall Street.

John: Yeah, as happens. And how did we pick the Order 23? Where'd Order 23, the title, come from?

Chris: I don't know. I think it was, you know, just kind of a spooky number, I think it was, and we knew this- the con for this one was supposed to be built around sound. 

Dean: And as I was saying earlier, about this episode being directed by Rod Hardy, we are now being joined by-

John: Rod Hardy

Chris: Rod Hardy! Yay!

Rod: My apologies, Hollywood traffic is always tricky.

[Laughter]

John: And he's driving on the wrong side of the road; it's just bad.

Rod: You people drive on the wrong side of the road.

John: I know, you wanna- I'm having my traditional Guinness. Do you want one?

Rod: I'd love one.

John: We will see what we can do. So the gentleman- we've just met our feds and our gentleman- the gentleman playing the two security guards - who are they?

Chris: Yeah, it's Victor Morris playing Deputy Marshal Robert Corville, and Joshua Sawtell is playing Charlie Merrill. Little fact about this show - this show is cast entirely in the city of Portland; these are all Portland actors.

John: Yeah, that's right; we didn't fly anyone up from LA for this one.

Rod: The cast really stood up to the line of anything. I mean Melik in particular- we were very, in one way, keen to find someone locally for a whole bunch of reasons, but he showed a true, sort of, level of performance that I thought worked really well in this episode.

Dean: Absolutely.

John: There's two things in this sequence that are interesting from a writing standpoint - other than the fun of seeing Beth Riesgraf in a ventilation shaft. One: poison in the water is, of course, an homage to You Only Live Twice, the Bond film, and the wire, by the way, is digital.

Chris: Yeah. Well this part is real, but that part is digital.

John: This is digital and the whole drop down. But two: where did the villain speech come from? Who was explaining that?

Chris: Oh, this is kind of the psychology of hedge funds, and it was- I believe it was from a column my dad sent me from the Wall Street Journal. You know how your dad sends you articles and things? And, you know-

John: ‘This would be a good movie.’ Yeah, I get that all the time.

Chris: ‘This would be good.’ I was going through it, and this is be all about why people invest in hedge funds; about the fear that other people make more than them. And fear was kinda the theme of this episode, so it kind of, sort of set it up here.

Rod: And I'm sure you mentioned before, but to me the wonderful thing about this story that brought it into today was that it was the Bernie Madoff story. In a way you want him to be Bernie Madoff.

John: Well the first season was really the Madoff variation.

[All Laugh]

John: First half of the season- because, you know, the show got picked up and were like, ‘Oh, second season - what are we gonna do? We hadn't really thought about it.’ And then the world economic system collapsed and, you know, ready made villains began to fall out of the newspapers.

Rod: Yes. The thing about Malik’s performance that I always found appealing was, when you first did the audition, was the fear in his eyes. You know, underneath all the sort of men with great bravado, there's a wonderful sense of fear. Which I think our bad guys always come to the floor with, which is terrific. Here it is; look at those eyes.

Chris: I love this shot here, too. I love- I just love the way you composed this.

John: Did you digitally fog that or-? 

Rod: No, just put it out of focus. It’s easier; the DP is very good at that sort of stuff.

[All Laugh]

John: Oh, he's gonna be filled with rage. And then we take him- now this is interesting - this is one of the few locations. It really only happens in 2 locations: the courthouse and the hospital. And then we go back to the hospital.

Chris: The whole episode takes place- that was another thing I wanted to do, was do an episode that takes place entirely - not just in one day - but really in about 6 hours.

John: Now it was interesting - this was really the first episode where we started to hammer in on the second season theme, which we realize was the more you are constrained in time and space- because our team at this point is very, very good. People watched the first season; they know how incredibly talented they are. How do you challenge a super team? You have to keep throwing obstacles in their way. And rather than just complications, you kept making the situation more and more constrained. And this is also a great one. Tim really dug in on the whole ‘Oh, so I like hurting people this year.’ He really dug in on it. 

Rod: I gotta tell you, I look at the show now, and I look at the difference between the LA versions and the Portland version - and I love the Portland version. It just feels different, and has a different sense to it, which is great.

John: It feels bigger. 

Dean: And we have such access to such a varying architecture, varying designs. And we can shoot in places we would never be allowed to shoot in Los Angeles, and I think it adds to it.

John: Because of little things like safety regulations and employment laws. Meanwhile in Portland, we’re basically running a giant child labor camp and, yeah, starring the entire city of Portland.

Dean: I love your use of the bullet time here, and going down the hall, and through-

Rod: Well, so, it was your invention. And I just think it’s, unfortunately I do - when I go to work on other productions - never do I enjoy working on other productions better than this one, but I do try to steal that idea occasionally, because it is so clever and so wonderful.

[Laughter]

John: It just keeps the pace up and moving, because to a great- one of the things you do find in a show - it's a lot of people sitting around looking at computers. And in order to stop it- Now where- how did we wind up using sound so much in this? It was the-

Chris: Well the idea of this was, again, we mention it - great Mission Impossible where they convince somebody they were in a submarine or a bomb shelter. And the great thing about that is using sound. This was a con that was built around sound; about the noise in the hallway that was gonna slowly drive this guy insane, and-

Dean: You know, what's interesting about that, is when I saw the rough cut and we only had the temp sounds on it, I liked the episode, but it wasn't, for me, like, a super great episode. Once the sounds came in, it was suddenly, ‘Oh wow, this thing just took a big leap,’ because- well Rod, you had so well directed the actors to the sounds, that without the sounds there, it was like we were missing a character. And when the sounds came in, it was like the other character was in the room.

Rod: I say these days, sound to me brings in at least 70% of a movie. It's quite extraordinary. Where 20 years ago it was less than 50, now it's up above cause it creates the whole sense of where you are.

John: By the way, the speech that nurses don't wear the tight little white uniforms anymore, is actually a speech Beth gave up that we just wound up putting in the show.

[All Laugh]

Dean: Yeah.

John: Nice try guys. And this is one of the perfect examples of the bickering brother relationship. This really is the proto episode for that.

Rod: It’s that Lethal Weapon stuff which is great.

Chris: In my mind, they share an apartment with bunk beds and NFL [unintelligible.]

[All Laugh]

Chris: That's how I write it.

John: In your head, that's how they- they've been adopted by Mr. Drummond. Are they like the Different Strokes kids? Is that your theory?

Dean: I love this bit.

John: I also love the weirdly, and if we can talk about the actors for a moment, I love the weirdly disaffected face Beth always puts on when she's about to do physical harm to someone. Yeah, it really- if you ever notice in the ventilation shaft, she has poisoned someone and she is giggling; she is giggly. And in here, she's just kind of got these dead eyes when she's, ‘Oh, time to go give a man a skin rash to convince him he's dying.’ It’s another Thursday afternoon for Parker.

Dean: And these guys you got to play the cops are terrific. 

Rod: They worked out really well, didn't they? I did notice the priest in the background there. I really wanted to work on- the first episode, I wanted to have a priest or a nun in everything, and unfortunately, I couldn't find the right place, but in the hospital it was great.

Chris: There’s another great bullet time.

Dean: Yeah, that was a really great one.

John: This also was another thing we did a lot first season, where we really became part of the pattern this year, which is to split them up in twos and threes. Is to- you know, last year, if you look, a lot of times they kind of fold over and cross in each other’s stories a lot. Well this year, in order to give each character a little room to breathe, we really started building- not really B stories, but physically- simultaneously, but physically separated.

Dean: But this part right here is a very interesting deviation from what we normally do, and it worked really well, which- normally the heart and soul of our show is the victim and their story, but here it switches to a new victim that we’re introducing here. It was quite the surprise, I thought, and became a very emotional part of the story.

John: Well that's cause the victim was in Act 0 in this episode. I mean, you start in the courtroom, which is very difficult to get the emotional hit of a lot of our other episodes.

Chris: Well, one of the things I think that- it kinda-

John: Wait a minute, Rod’s afraid to pop a beer.

Rod: It's never a good time for this. Is it now? [Opens beer.]

John: It is- it is traditional on all of our commentaries to usually hear me opening that, so it's good to hear you taking that over for me.

Chris: I was gonna say that one of the things we have typically in the con, is that one of the members of the team gets, sort of, over invested in the con. That's- we've done that as a sort of a source of comedy, but in this case it's kinda like Eliot sorta becomes- he becomes a cop in a sense. You know?

John: Yeah.

Chris: So I mean, like, it's when they wear the costume - sometimes one of them actually, sort of, becomes that costume.

John: And it's also interesting to see how fans react to any sort of storyline like this, where they just assume you're trying to reveal something about the character’s past or some sort of subtle hints that we’re laying in. It’s like no, Eliot doesn't like guys who beat up kids. It's not- I mean there's plainly other stuff going on that Christian chose in order to base his acting around...

Dean: This was the episode, though, where we all suddenly watched the dailies and said, ‘Christian’s really taking it up a whole other level this year��. And then he did. Because it was this episode, and then Tap Out, he took the character that he had built in season 1 that we had liked and were familiar with, and he added these real interesting layers to it that just, I thought, really elevated it.

John: Ah, the [in a Boston accent] Revere Claw there you go. That is Gina doing the great Route 1. I’ll tell you exactly from where Route 1 she’s up on - she's just past Mike Clarke’s Comedy Club up on Route 1, with the dealerships. That hair right there, is the [in a Boston accent] Revere Claw named after Revere, Massachusetts, to establish a certain socioeconomic and strata one might say, except it's actually in Revere. At least when I was growing up, it’s teased out so finely it’s only 5 or 6 hairs; it's really insane - it's like a fish’s krill mask.

Rod: I would love to see- I'd like to see a reel at some stage of all these characters cut together from each of the characters. Put on one of these DVDs, cause it would be such fun to see the journey you take them on; it’s fabulous.

John: Well the fans do that. That's part of the fun of watching the YouTube fan videos.

Rod: Well done fans.

John: It’s watching like, ‘Oh, I'd forgotten how cool that moment was.’ Yeah, because we're gonna make any of these by hopefully the end of the run. Even at this point, we’re 20 hours in and it’s- there’s gonna be moments you forget.

Rod: You know, the tricky thing about this episode also was, and I know it happens a lot in the series, but for me, you'd shoot a scene like such we’re watching now, but at the same time you have to get that security, sort of, version of it. so it was always- Dean’s always makes what he shows - it was always that much more difficult; there's so much to be done, which is just interesting.

Chris: There’s a lot of layers. Well an interesting thing that made me think, looking at Melik here was, and I - and this I gotta say to Rod - we, in day one of this shoot, I think, Dave went on day one and day 2, Melik had to go from arrogant to literally- I mean, on the verge of insanity. And I mean, maybe Rod, talk about how you had to get him there over the course of the first two days of this shoot. I mean, that’s a lot.

Rod: I used an old director’s tool, which was basically, ‘you'll never work again if this doesn't work.’

[All Laugh]

John: Ah. [In an Australian accent/mimicking Rod] ‘Now the way I want you to have fear here, is to be actually afraid of the fact that we're gonna fire you.’ That’s really- use the sense memory of unemployment.

Rod: That’s right. That's all true. My god, I have the same fears every time I work. You know, what's interesting here was, Day 1 he had to go from the beginning to the very end of the thing, so for an actor to- by the way, who has done the terrific things in his time, but nothing as quickly as we make this show. So I might say all power to him for being able to keep it going right to the end of the day. But it made that first day of our shoot really a tricky one, and one of the hardest of the whole shoot in a way, because he had- you know, you can shoot this stuff very quickly, but it's not just about shoots, it's about keeping the performances alive and real on the same level, and he was able to do that. But you know what? The way I was able to talk to him about it, a good thing was, he listened.

Chris: Yeah.

Rod: He just listened, and that was really helpful. We do this together. I mean, that's what the journey is - you do it together.

John: Now there's- we breeze past the speech where Tim is explaining to Beth Riesgraf- or, pardon me, Nate is explaining to Parker how they're gonna do this. How they're gonna basically hypnotize this guy. How they're gonna drive him to the edge. And we’d- you know, you'd done a fair bit of research and we'd just started reading Jonah Lehrer which is a lot of neuroscience, and we got a really nice email, actually, from a neuroscientist which was like, ‘Hey, you know what? Usually I call bullshit on television, but pretty good theory; that would actually work.’

Chris: Yeah. I felt pretty good about that. We got really interested in neuroscience in this beginning of season 2.

John: Well especially Apollo Robbins, who was our consultant who had actually lectured at the big neuroscience convention, you know, as they were starting to understand that magicians and illusionists have a very basic understanding of how the mind and eye track objects and understand things and perceive things, that neuroscientists can only do through experimentation. So there's this weird, cool melding now of the two fields. And yeah, we got totally sucked into it, but that's the great thing about writing.

Chris: Yeah.

John: Anything you think is cool, you can use. Yeah, you're right - Chris has an awful lot to do here because he's got to also sell this ‘don't call anyone,’ and he really does. He really digs in on it.

Dean: Yeah, I'll tell you, when I started watching this on the dailies I was saying to myself, ‘Chris is digging deeper this year’. And speaking of that, we also just went through Gina's scene - Gina, who showed up this season 2 pregnant; had to deal with going through pregnancy-

John: None of us knew that, by the way, none of us had anything to do with that. Just put that out there.

[Laughter]

Dean: But, you know, going through-

Rod: DNA test results are coming, by the way.

Dean: But going through that for the first time, and yet she then also stepped up and brought her characters to a whole other level, and all the characters she created this year were phenomenal. And this one, we'd never seen her do anything like this, maybe a little hint of this in the season finale last year- no I'm sorry in Homecoming, the airport scene.

Chris: It's the first time we've had her do, what I would call a ‘low status’ character. Generally she plays very high status professionals and, you know, it was just interesting. Oh yeah, here- 

Dean: This is a great scene.

Chris: This is our ER scene.

John: This is actually- I actually- yes, you'll notice no one's running, which is a big complaint all ER nurses have; which is people always run in the scenes. I actually got food poisoning in college and this happened next to me. I remember us talking about this, yeah, the whole flatlining and shadows, it's a very-

Rod: You know what Chris? This is one of the hardest scenes I've done for a very long time, because it's all about perception. You know, the audience has to know one thing, but the character - who we have to really feel his fears is there thinking something else, and it was-

Chris: And then I love the way you frame this shot, just- You know, just him peeking out a little bit of the gauze and, kind of, now getting his POV.

John: It's very- this is a hard episode, very few spend this much time with the bad guy.

Rod: But you know what? I know I picked this episode up, and read it, and I could hear people saying, ‘this is the easy one; there's only two locations.’

[All Laugh]

John: This is one of the- that look she just gave is great. This is one of the times you have to remind Beth that Parker’s not as good of an actress as she is. It’s like, ‘that was perfect and Parker wouldn't be that good, but good!’ Now he's losing his mind. This- and by the way, this is- we've established in thief 101, each one has skills, and this was two fold: one, we love the fact there is a grabber claw-

Chris: Well that was- I have to give Apollo credit for that. I mean, we kinda ran this one by him and he literally sent me a picture of the grabber claw; there was a link on where you could buy it - he really supplied the whole thing.

John: Oh, well that's a lot of the tech people figure is unbelievable on the show. I remember they called last year about the credit card scanner on Beth’s thigh, and they said it was unbelievable. I said, ‘I have two on my desk. You want me to send you one?’ But the other one we needed to establish is - Hardison, can’t pick pockets. You know, each one has very specific uses, and even through the rest of the season, if you watch the DVDs, you can always see Gina or Beth does the lift - always. And it's always a handoff to Hardison or Kane. You know, it's- pardon me to Aldis and Kane. I'm only one Guiness in. I can’t -

[All Laugh]

John: I'm a lightweight. I have to go back to last year doing the commentaries. Get my levels back up. See last year we did these while we were shooting them and I drink while we shoot; that's my policy.

Rod: Now this is- What about this policeman with a ponytail? For god's sake. Truly, what is this?

[Laughter & Cross Talk]

Chris: The fun train is roaring down the tracks! 

Rod: Now this kid was just terrific.

John: Yeah, this kid was great.

Rod: We will see something of this boy again. No lines. Watch his eyes; he's got such an awareness.

Chris: Now what was it like casting? I mean, did you just-? Because I wasn't there when you cast him. Did you just immediately see this and-?

Rod: I think John was there.

John: Yeah, the kid just stood out. Very, very good.

Rod: He just came out. He was just there were people that just do or don't, and this kid had a real sense of it, which was just great.

Chris: And here we have all the sounds.

Dean: I love how you moved into that super close up where it’s almost fisheye; that's just great.

Rod: The good thing about our cast is you can get to those close ups and things are going on in their minds. All the time, there's something going on in their minds.

John: Well that's the tricky bit, where you have to see the performances up, because it’s a con or heist show, so at no point have they gone and talked to the suspect, and they're hanging out for coffee. The tension is always there in every scene. The con has started - particularly in this one, we’re up and running from moment one.

Chris: Tim, here, really loved a lot of the neuroscience stuff and he improved the almond tonsils. Which I guess is the term for the amygdala - the fear center of the brain.

John: And that's also where we get into Sophie's bizarre relationship with cruelty. I don't even want to start- I don't even want to go into what that started on the web.

Dean: But it did set in motion an arc for Tim, which is that he's going into a strange darker place now that he's sober, and we played that out for the whole rest of the season.

John: The whole idea is that he can never not be addicted to something, and if it's not gonna be booze- Well, and that's the idea, the first half of the season, he's really replaced booze with control and that feeling of superiority, that feeling of righteousness. So when he then starts drinking again, he actually has a factor that wasn't in the first season. And as a result, he's a thousand times worse in the second half of the season than he was all last season. Yeah, because now he’s not just a drunk, he’s a righteous prick who's a drunk.

Dean: By the way, we also breezed by the setup of using Star Trek as a warning device. That is absolutely- what was the origin of that idea?

Chris: That came out in the room. I can’t- did you pitch that?

John: No, it was a room pitch that somebody came up with it.

Chris: I wish I could remember. This is Steve Coker, who is more of a comedic actor, and I think this was, you know, one of his first, kind of, real dramatic roles as the abusive dad.

Dean: Terrific in the part.

John: Yeah, good job. And also the way- I liked the way this ends. Yeah, you fully believe he’s gonna throw him off. I like the way that this ends, which is you have to leave town. That was another thing we kinda hit this year a couple times, which is, you know, each one of these people is beginning to realize that the way they live their life - they've left wreckage, and they've blown out of towns, and they've gone on their lives.

Dean: That's a great shot.

Chris: Look at his feet off the ground.

Rod: Hitchcock! It’s Hitchcock.

John: Don't tell them where you steal from! And also, this is another thing which is - we call up a mini speech of evil here, which is each time the villain explains why he's not a bad guy in his own head. Because nobody's a bad guy in their own head. So this guy smacks his kid around, he probably got smacked around by his dad. He turned out ok; what's the big deal? And like he says eventually, you know, Eliot's gonna blow town.

Chris: And the other thing here was, he talked about how he would get out of jail in 5 minutes. It sets up, kinda, the power. You know, even a small story like this, there are power dynamics that you don't expect.

Dean: Right there - just that little reaction that Christian does, it showed a vulnerability that he never showed last year. That was really interesting. That- I'm not sure how you got that out of him, but it started a very good trend.

John: And also, the sort of realizing he has to choose a different resolution path here. Like he can’t- he would just kill that dude. Like 5 years ago? He would just break that dude’s leg. I joked later that-

Dean: Well it's almost as though his heart started working again. 

John: Yeah, and it's bothering him.

Rod: That's a good line; I like it.

Chris: That's another great shot. I mean, now he's really-

John: Okay, this guy. 

Dean: Where did you find this guy?

Chris: Talk about this guy. Talk about this casting session.

John: When we were auditioning- When you become a Hollywood producer and it’s like then there's gonna be a casting couch and a casting room where you get to get people naked, and I'm sitting there with Rod and the skinny guys were coming in and Rod goes, ‘I'm very sorry could you take your shirt off?’ And I was like, ‘this is not the people taking their shirt off I thought it would be.’

Rod: You were gonna have to have-

John: And he had these poor bastards like shitless and scrubbing themselves in terror in the middle of the-

Dean: This guy was awesome.

John: By the way, that is a- I am going to claim, because it was so eerily similar, that that was a visual reference to the great George Romero movie The Crazies. Because if it isn't an homage to The Crazies? It should be.

[Laughter]

John: That- the whole hazmat suit and-

Chris: That’s real rain folks. We got a- we don't have to pay for atmosphere in Portland; that's real rain.

Dean: Now those hardcore Electric Entertainment fans out there, if you remember the show we did, Blank Slate, this was one of the first times we stole music from Blank Slate and put it into an episode.

[Laughter]

John: Use all the parts of a buffalo in cable television.

Dean: We believe in recycling.

Chris: Now this was-

Dean: I love this scene.

Chris: I love this too. I love the way you composed this shot, Rod. Talk about that.

Rod: And let me tell you, we’re in the kitchen of a disused hospital that was suddenly becoming a mortuary. So it was a real challenge all around, and the art department did a nice job of putting that together. And we’re turning the supposedly the simple good cop into, now, the bad guy, which was a lot of fun.

John: I also love- I believe it was in the room- well what would be in a murderer's trunk? and I whipped out the five things, and you were like, ‘that was way too fast.’ That-

[All Laugh]

John: ‘We’re gonna go out and look in your trunk right now.’ No and the- this is one of the times- cause again, we have to play with the conventions of the show in the second season, he doesn't have the earpiece in. And who’s in communication, who’s not in communication often begins to be the things they hinge around. This is- a lot of stuff happens in this one.

Chris: It sure does.

John: We drive the guy crazy, we kidnap a security guard.

Dean: And there's an assassin that he has to deal with.

John: Turns out this is an assassin, there's an abused kid. The hell's going on?

Chris: For how many minutes? 40?

John: 42:30?

Dean: That's a nice act out?

Rod: But it's a simple little show to do in seven days.

[Laughter]

Dean: By the way, great fight scene.

John: Lemme ask, if this is a kitchen- 

Dean: Where do those come from?

Rod: We built those. Everything was put in; we kept sort of two or three of the walls and put in those.

Dean: The drawers.

Rod: The drawers. Yeah, only two of the drawers would open, but that’s okay; 

John: That’s all you need.

Rod: That’s all you need for this show.

John: This is a particularly brutal fight scene. I love the fact that he's like, ‘wrong day’. Yeah, slamming people’s hands in drawers, I think I took that from Queen & Country script. 

Dean: But it's just so great. He's in such a bad mood over this kid. He couldn't kill the other guy; this guy he can take out.

John: And then the spinning the bowl thing.

Dean: I love the Jackie Chan reference.

John: It’s very Jackie Chan. I'm fairly sure it’s from the one where he's a cook, I can’t remember the- Who Am I?- no it’s not Who Am I?, it’s a different one.

Chris: Rod, I think you said we need to put a body on this gurney here to throw him on. I think originally mine said empty gurney and you said let’s put a body on there.

Rod: If there's a fight in a mortuary, there's gotta be a dead body somewhere.

[Laughter]

Dean: And then throwing him on top of the body is just awesome.

Chris: Here it is on top of the body.

John: You know this like, nice person, has passed away after years of peacefully dedicated-

Chris: Oh, they were a terrible person.

John: We only dump our guys on terrible people.

Rod: Come back to the man screaming.

John: This one really ramps up.

Dean: Look at that. He went for it, he really went for it.

John: Is that the 10 millimeter that gives you the-?

Rod: Yeah it is, and a lot of actors, who were much more experienced than him, wouldn't have gone as far as he did, which is one of the reasons I knew he'd be right.

Chris: But I'm saying that credit to you, because I remember you getting there and you were like ‘man there’s- there's spiders on you!’ I mean, you really just brought him to the brink.

John: And then he threw the spiders on him.

Rod: Exactly the way I felt waking up in my hotel room you guys put me in. I understood his fear.

[Laughter]

John: His fear of dirt.

Dean: I love the whole fact that his nose is bleeding just off the suggestion-

John: Yeah, I've seen in hypnosis, boils have been raised, blisters. That's absolutely possible.

Dean: Tim was terrific in this part, too.

John: Tim loves- all actors love a death scene. Even if it's a fake death scene.

Rod: That's a good fall.

John: That's a good fall. Yeah, he's absolutely out of his mind at that point. 

[Laughter]

John: Handcuffed, people dying around him.

Dean: Look at the feet! The feet are what makes that shot so good.

John: Wait, was that a dummy or did we actually have a stuntie?

Rod: No, they were actual rubber feet.

John: And then getting yelled at.

Dean: Wrath of Khan.

John: Wrath of Khan, yeah. We actually went through on the day. It’s like, ‘now is the rule that the good ones are the alarm or the bad ones?’ We went back and forth for a while. I know it's the- it’s one of the little geek cred things you have to watch. Once you establish a character like Hardison is a geek - you can never let it go. Because I hate, as an actual geek, watching television and they've got some 1988 version of what a computer nerd looks like. You know, and that's so- he has to know his Doctor Who and he has to know his Star Trek pretty well.

Chris: This was like a change from the first draft to the second draft, I think. In the first draft- because I just had Nate die, it was like well, we’ve already seen Sophie die, so what's worse? 

John: That’s a repeated beat.

Chris: What's worse is that he's just being locked-

Dean: To die.

Chris: To die with this guy.

John: We've also built up - the army's coming. This is The Crazies, we’re doing The Crazies.

Rod: What other show do you get this kind of madness? For god's sake, it’s just-

Dean: In our writers room.

John: It's a very tiny writers room, with a lot of booze and heat, and it really creates this. Yeah, I just realized that this is The Crazies; this is now the army is coming to destroy- now actually, by the time you're hearing this, The Crazies the remake is already out, so you probably know exactly what I’m talking about. But there's a great, horrifying- an old George Romero movie from the 70s-

Dean: I love Tim’s switch right there. And done.

John: ‘And, I’m up.’

Dean: And this guy was great.

John: It’s kinda parallax feel, too. It's a very 1970s paranoid vibe to the whole thing. And look,  there's that walk again; that look when the emotions she's supposed to have as a human are gone. And what the hell? The hell’s going on?

Dean: And another great bullet time. And the head coming out.

Chris: The great thing is it gives you a sense of geography. You know, like, where he's coming.

John: Well, we actually talk about something in the show called the heist head. The hardest thing about writing cons in a heist is the geography; you have to understand the geography. It's like writing bedroom farce; it's all based on going in and out certain doors at certain times.

Rod: By the way, shows with two locations like we had, make it more difficult to shoot in a way; you gotta keep the audience aware of where they are, but at the same time make it more interesting. 

John: Absolutely. And that's the big challenge is resetting the geography so the audience doesn't have to stop and think, ‘wait, where are they?’ Because at that point, whatever emotional response is gone.

Chris: Now here- this is the scene I talked about; how this scene affected the shooting-

John: Yeah.

Chris: Afterwards.

John: By the way, these cops, I believe, he beats up in the season finale.

[All Laugh]

Dean: Christian really dug in for this scene, you know, and -

Rod: But it's what makes this show worth it. That these guys can go through all the Robin Hood stuff, but they get into that emotional line and that's what makes it really, to me, a fun thing to watch.

John: It's also fun, because if you know Chris Kane and you see kids around him, Chris basically- kids basically treat Chris like Batman. So seeing him interact with a kid in this way, is very much the way Chris actually talks to kids in real life. You know, he's very honest with them, he's very direct, and it's a very real scene; it's a better scene than I've seen in shows that this for real-

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: But there's a turn he makes here, which is really interesting. He starts off, like, really confident that he's just gonna solve this and talk to the kid, and when he realizes his impotence in this scene, it, again, his heart comes to the surface, which is something we hadn't really seen before with this character.

Chris: It's true. And his impotence comes out when Hardison touches him, I mean, you see his reaction then.

Dean: He's not used to not being able to handle something.

John: But this is a better version of this scene than I've seen in shows, like hospital shows, where you're supposed to be with the big orchestral moment. And yeah, this is a believable, great bit of acting by two very good actors. That kid is great. He actually didn’t have braces; we actually screwed those braces on him.

Chris: And right here, and I love this shot, too; him scared in the frame by the two of them. 

Rod: He's arm was broken, but we had to break it for the show.

John: Again, the great thing about shooting in Portland. You know, tax credits, but Oregon really looks the other way, I find. 

Chris: Now, and just in terms of the ending, there was another that was written that was more a traditional ending, where the team’s together and pays the victim the money. And after we saw the scene shot, I remember I talked with Rod the next day. You know what? That's the emotional high point of the show. Let's just- let's end it on closing that story and that's the end of the episode.

John: Yeah, I mean, that's to a great degree; a tough one on this, is that the B story kind of takes over most of it. But you never know that. You never know that until you see the performances; til you see the cut.

Chris: This is a great turn back for him, back to evil.

John: Back to- and he's evil again. He’s- you know, you can't keep a good evil man down.

Chris: Now Rod, please tell us- this is an amazing shot.

[Laughter]

Rod: This all came out of nowhere, with 20 minutes to shoot it and, I might say, the genius of our DP David Connell, added with my genius, and a long lens. Because you can create many things. 

Chris: It's a movie shot; that is a movie shot right there.

John: Also, this is the- I think this it’s referenced later, but it's unclear, this is the bad guy. This is the assassin’s car; that’s why there’s actually keys there, because they have set this up for him in order to- And did we shoot that with the suction cup mount while driving?

Rod: Yes.

Dean: And I love the jump cutting in there that just puts you on edge with him. This is a beautiful shot right there.

Chris: Oh and he really fell.

Rod: This guy threw himself into it so much .

John: Now there was also- and again this is super, super intimate. So he has hidden the money back from his trial back in this courthouse, right? And we make a point of the fact that there's, and she's learned to fight this year, too, which I love. And there's another episode where you show that Eliot has actually been teaching her how to fight. The fact that this place has not been refurbished is because this is a very low budget town, which is in a lot of financial trouble. And that's actually- in the-, although the scene that was cut, explained how he got the gun into the courtroom, because they had not refurbished the metal detectors. That's actually a plot point in the season finale that all the security that was supposed to go to the town was stolen.

Chris: Oh that's right, you’re right.

John: Yeah no, no I totally did that intentionally.

Dean: It's explained at the end of the things.

John: If you watch the season finale and this episode they actually- Bellbridge has a continuity.

Rod: This bit I love. When they let him go, I think is just so terrific.

Chris: And this is an iconic shot in the show, Rod. I mean, they- we used this shot of them-

Dean: A lot in trailers.

Rod: Is that right? Good.

John: And they know he's screwed. Look at the face like, ‘yes, yes your infinite raging, yes; and do exactly what we predicted.’

Rod: Fell and slipped again.

Dean: That shot right there.

John: And they all make a nice choice; each one of them looks at Nate in a different way. This is- and I love, by the way, that who on earth would think would work? ‘I'm in my underwear; I'm running around in the street; I've escaped from the police; who will believe me?’ Yeah, this is a very Twilight Zone, this a very William Shatner look out the window: ‘he's right there!’

Dean: It is, yeah.

John: It's all local actors for the cops.

Rod: Everybody in this show.

John: Yeah there was no one from LA, holy smokes.

Dean: It just goes to show what talent depth there is in Portland. We had no idea. Originally we thought we were gonna be bringing up 4 to 5 people per episode and we really averaged one.

John: And they bounced him hard off that. 

Rod: This show would be the only one you didn’t bring anybody into. 

Chris: Yes. 

John: But the other ones we only did really one role an episode.

Chris: I like the way you did this, too; how you came off his back and around tells the whole story. And then-

Dean: And then transition; terrific.

John: It’s like you thought about this. Like you spent hours preparing.

Rod: It’s like it was planned.

[Laughter]

John: Ahh gimmick security footage. Where would we be without gimmick security footage? Leverage relies on the fact that this is a surveillance society. And this is- we use this a couple times - the guy looking out the cop car window. It’s sort of that William Shatner looking at the thing in the window, that's exactly what it is

Dean: Well it's the rule we have in the show; it’s not enough-

John: This is Dean’s big rule.

Dean: Yeah, my big rule is the villain can't just lose, he must suffer.

Rod: Right. Yeah, yeah.

Dean: He must suffer, otherwise it's not good enough.

John: He’s humiliated.

Chris: And also the gloat; you want the gloat.

Dean: The gloat, you want the gloat. Now where is this-? This scene seems very you, the lawyer-

John: Oh, he totally wrote this. Every now and then on the law stuff, he digs in.

Chris: Well I was trying to marry the notions of the law and neuroscience, and I'm not sure it was entirely successful here.

Rod: Well can I just make a comment? I’m not sure if I understood what it meant.

[All Laugh]

John: He still directed the hell out of it.

Chris: It was about the nature of intent, really, in a crime and that’s-

Rod: I think we may have shot this about midnight or one am and I said to you, ‘what does this actually mean?’

John: It’s Latin, just keep moving.

Chris: It’s Latin, yeah, exactly.

John: And Parker has the money. This is actually- this is a character that Chris does on a regular basis when he plays roles. When he has Eliot doing the role, it's always an ‘aw shucks I'm just here to help you’ guy. He very rarely intentionally frightens people. You know it's a very interesting choice that is, ‘yeah I'm just your pal; this is all good news; we’re all- we just all wanna go home’. So this is- only two drawers worked, this one and which one?

Rod: That's it, the other side.

John: The other side.

Dean: I love this. I love that he smacks him. 

John: Yeah.

[All Laugh]

John: ‘We all saw that.’

Dean: I love their relationship.

John: Yeah, because, you know, he’s gotta make sure that as annoying as Hardison is, he's not gonna get hurt.

Chris: And the other thing that's not important here is another kinda late addition in the script, was we wanted to- you know they manipulate the US Marshals here, but we wanted them to have a win. We wanted to give them something, so that it’s not- they're not just chumps.

John: It's very tricky, in the room we talk about, when we manipulate innocent people, they should be rewarded.

Chris: Especially law enforcement.

John: Especially law enforcement. Because you know he's not- he didn't do a bad thing, you know. And in the end, he's a good Marshal and he's gonna bring the guy in. So, you know, we always wanna make sure they always fall on the side of angels. And it's not always easy. They leave wreckage behind, yeah, and this was also nice - the moment he gets the favor out of him.

Chris: Yeah, he owes him.

Dean: And what's nice is that he comes up with it as it's happening, as opposed to having this planned out. You see it really, like, you see the idea just enter his brain.

John: And there.

Chris: That's a great acting moment.

John: Now originally, by the way, Chris, you had the- I would like to note, the drivers license of the evil father found with the assassins car so that the-

Chris: I think I did. 

John: The evil father not only lost custody of the kid, but went down as an accessory for assassination and murder.

Chris: I think I did have that, that might've been- I think that was too far.

John: Your original payoff was a bit more ruthless. But he's great, by the way, that's Victor. He's great in that scene. Cause look, he’s warm with the kid and then he basically puts on the cop eyes, and it's like ‘do not even try. Do not even try’. Yeah, it's a great performance.

Chris: And then here this last bit was the- was what we added as the- as the new ending. Which was, we wanna make sure that the audience knows this kid is gonna be safe.

Dean: And I think the first time we ever ended on the show on Christian.

John: Yeah. I would like to know the first time we saw this, the lights came up and I said, ‘oh he's going in there to kill that dad.’

[All Laugh]

John: It's just like, ‘oh man he's going in there, he's gonna choke him into unconsciousness, shove a pretzel down his trachea, and make it look like an accident and let him choke to death on the floor. Ahhh, kid’s out of the way.’

Rod: This stuff happens at the end because you allow the story to unfold. And we talked about it as we were shooting, but you guys allow it to unfold, so it has a natural sort of tempo. I really liked it.

Dean: Well thank you, again, for being on the show season 1, 12 Step, my favorite episode. You killed it again with this. And thank you so much for being here.

Rod: I'm gonna be there for seasons 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and 11.

John: God bless - that’s 6 more than I'll be there for.

Dean: From your mouth to our accountants’ ears.

Rod: It was fun.

Dean: Thank you.

Chris: Thanks a lot.

John: Thanks a lot.

[krolock-in-the-snowlock]

My Full Commentary on Broadway’s Dance of the Vampires

Turns out there’s so much that this is going to have to be split into two posts! These are my full, unedited, out-of-context ramblings as I watched the production, so prepare for it to be all over the place and chaotic! I also did a slightly shorter review of sorts here!

But here we go... Act 1!

• Huh. This is not Alfred in the snow

• Why are there three children in the forest

• This song is boring. To be fair their voices are nice but I’m still bored. This feels like Disney ugh

• God these jokes are awful and I can’t tell if they’re funny or not

• Whyyyyy is there a jokes every 5 seconds and WHAT ARE THEY DOING IN THE FOREST

• Oh my god why are they getting high on mushrooms

• wAIT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE SARAH HOLY SHIT

• WHY IS SHE WITH PEOPLE ARE THEY HER SIBLINGS

• WHY IS SHE OUTSIDE

• I feel like they’re foreshadowing Krolock’s arrival

• I want to get this over with already and see Krolock but I don’t want to see Crawford butcher his poor character

• What is going on why are they dancing, is this Carpe Noctem already

• Why are they just carrying them around

• The lights are nice but that’s about as far as I can compliment this

• The dancers (I’m guessing vampires even though I swear I heard a wolf howl) look like they just got off of Cats and either think they’re still in Cats but just wandered onto the wrong stage or just never recovered from being cats for so long and can tragically no longer move like normal humans (or vampires, whatever)

• The rock music is pretty cool I’ll give them that

• But I still don’t see where they’re going with this

• OH SHIT

• WHY DID A COFFIN LITERALLY RISE OUT OF THE GROUND

• IT’S GONNA BE KROLOCK ISN’T IT

• WHYYY

• God has left the building what the fuc-

• It sounds like he’s about to start a really sad rave

• Is that Krolock’s voice oh god please no

• Also THEY ARE NOT IN A BUILDING THEY ARE IN A FOREST

• I get that Krolock breaks the fourth wall in Die Unstillbare Gier but that is no excuse for this aAaAa

• I’m both scared and morbidly excited to unpause the video

• This feels on the same level of what kind of acid trip hallucination parallel universe have I landed in as seeing the Cats film in the cinema in that I’m both scaredly laughing and like fuck it what have I got to lose I’m here for the ride no matter what the next two hours may throw at me

• Oh god here I go

• Why are they applauding this is horrifying

• Is that a bloody top hat jesus christ

• Also I’m sorry but what kind of coffin is that big

• NO

• NO

• NONONONO

• I CAN’T THIS IS HORRIBLE

• COUNT GIOVANNI

• WHAT IS THAT VOICE

• Sarah sounded like Giofuckingvanni impersonating Sarah

• Did he just say you are a person

• And how old are you??? Where is the mystery?? Why does he sound like an old grandpa talking to the girl behind the checkout at the supermarket

• Ok I went back to check and no he said you are perfect and tbh that’s not much better she isn’t a product Giovanni

• Like yeah Krolock would probably be thinking that but he would never say it so plainly

• 18 in three days oh my god is her birthday on halloween

• Why does she talk like a 6 year old

• Oh no I’m sorry not just halloween but the total eclipse of the moon

• Gotta get the phrase total eclipse in there early

• At midnight huh sarah??? You were born at midnight???? And you care about that at 18-in-3-days??

• Issa too good excUSE ME?

• He sounds like a looney tunes character

• Is he talking to the audience

• Is this actually deadpool in disguise with all the fourth wall breaking because please that would be so much better than this trainwreck

• And Deadpool would never do this to poor TdV

• And your name, no don’t tell me… Sarah he’s not a cheap magician ugh (or tbh maybe Giovanni is)

• And now the einladung zum ball/tanzsaal music is playing… what is going to happen here

• I was gonna say finally something familiar but nope these lyrics are so wrong

• I know they can’t be exactly the same but they could have at least kept the meaning similar

• Like, what the hell is an original sin

• I was gonna roast the lyrics some more but I’m gonna be honest I’m not sure what he’s saying

• Endless researching? Ambronsius who? Awful word choice and I’m hating the repeated original sin thing he’s got going on

• Sei bereit????? So they’re keeping the German there???? Why??? Be prepared is the same number of syllables???

• Also what are they doing?? Merging einladung zum ball with gott ist tot or totale finsternis or what??

• Oh they said turn around… so not the literal translation, just the Bonnie Tyler lyrics, huh? That doesn’t even make sense. He’s in front of her already

• I’m sorry, since she’s been born??

• I’m mad that his voice is good because he could have performed in a faithful adaption and been a great Krolock but no he had to ruin everything and now we won’t get a good english version thanks michael

• It’s time to feed? Really?

• Oh so we are doing totale finsternis already

• We’re barely 11 minutes in and they’ve already used up two of the best songs in the musical?

• Also if Sarah and Krolock meet so early on, what’s gonna take up the first act? What’s gonna take the place of totale finsternis at act 2?

• The use of total eclipse of the heart definitely feels like an intentional joke here rather than just jim recycling his old stuff, and honestly it kind of works like that (though that’s only because this whole thing so far seems like one big parody)

• But if they don’t do the harmonies I’m gonna be so mad

• Or maybe I should just consider it a blessing tbh

• Nobody could ever beat drew and diana

• You’re so cool just because that’s what I think when I see Krolock that doesn’t mean that fits Sarah’s personality or what Krolock is supposed to be achieving (also Giovanni is most certainly Not Cool)

• Where I’ve paused it at 12:12 it looks like a meme. Crawford looks like he regrets everything and can I just say michael so does everybody else

• He looks like a potato or a rock or that neutral nicolas cage face that people put on the sequin cushion

• I hate that I kind of laughed at ‘and does he love me?’ ‘…Sarah.’

• She looks like a barbie doll

• Is he biting her already??

• Oh was he licking her neck?

• Why… don’t you celebrate… your birthday… at my castle? Oh my god

• This sounds like a poorly written krolock/reader wattpad fanfic

• Which is actually quite accurate

• He will return with the tails??

• He can’t gift her the sponge if the significance of the sponge hasn’t already been establisheddd

• It feel like lol aren’t i so random rawr xd

• Though giovanni would highkey be like that on myspace

• Also just saying, the sponge krolock gives to her in tdv is much more impressive than that normal sized sponge, up ur game giovanni

• And that’s just it????? He says ciao bella like a creepy mario then sinks into the ground again???

• How dare they use those nice choral harmonies for that scene

• Ah, 14:17 and I should go to bed but I sure don’t look forward to the garlic that I hear coming up

Day 2: Garlic

• And we’re back for round 2!

• So far garlic seems to have a similar vibe to the original, probably because the original was pretty dumb

• Yeah pretty much the same as the original

• But if there’s no frozen alfred and professor yet, what’s even going on?

• And that’s over

• Oh so they’re just gonna arrive like that, no drama or anything?

• Ew why does alfred sound like that? He might as well be gaston

• Oh so they’re mentioning Krolock by name??? When they’re supposed to be pretending he doesn’t exist?

• Oh so that was a mistake by an idiot, I see. Was this in the original?

• The whole smelling like feet thing is kind of funny, I hate to admit it. It’s just a shame it doesn’t fit Alfred’s character

• All in all, ignoring the fact that alfred is all wrong and not frozen, this scene is going pretty well. The jokes are quite good

• Huh who is this supposed to be??

• Oh my gOD IT’S GIOVANNI

• AND HIS STUPID ISSA TOO GOOD

• I really hate that I kind of enjoyed that reveal on some level

• But why????

• Where is koukol

• That silk is not going to be enough for sarah’s ballgown, I hate to break it to you Giovanni

• All of these modern phrases like I leave the door open and put it on my tab just don’t fit

• At this point I’ve decided to stop trying to take Giovanni seriouslg. This is a parody in my eyes

• Ah we’re at logic round 1 huh?

• It’s a shame the only bits so far that they’ve kept fairly accurate are the parts I never liked as much

• Oh my god is giovanni visiting the house as a bat???

• I’m not entirely certain who this other guy is… chagal?

• Frickin idiots really giovanni?

• Oh so koukol doesn’t even exist???

• Is his name morris??

• This is weird

• Ah finally sarah is in the bath

• But it’s in her room???

• Did she call alfred tasty?? You’re not a vampire yet sarah

• They’re both way too outgoing and confident ugh it’s wrong

• Where’s all the cute awkward clumsiness and interactions?

• Ok so alfred’s diary stuff is funny but it’s not alfred. Like, he was probably thinking some of this stuff but he wouldn’t say it, especially not like that

• Well chagal is less sexist and abusive here which is nice but ultimately removes sarah’s motivations

• A blood transfusion??

• I don’t even know what to say, these jokes are kinda gross

• Orange and black crepe paper? A pumpkin?? The prophecy thing? This is just stupid

• The pumpkin probably would scare giovanni away though

Sarah and Alfred’s duet doesn’t work when they’re both in THE SAME ROOM

• This is boring ugh they just met but not even in the way they did originally

• Where’s krolock to invite her to the ball? Oh wait, they already met, and it’s giovanni

• Dammit I love the einladung zum ball scene

• Did they even check blood types?? Oh wait it’s 18whatever supposedly

• Ew they’re supposed to bond over sponges not journals

• Oh here’s chagal’s gross song. Marginally less gross in this context to be fair but still

• Ha no one will abuse you except for you huh chagal

• Oh bye I guess chagal

• NO THAT BAT IS AWFUL OH MY GOD

• WHY DID THEY DO THIS

• GIOVANNI NO

• WHAT IS HE SINGING

• This is horrible

• Where’s the drama, the impressive teleportation, the cape swishing, the mystery, the music?

• Issa me! He might have just as well gone and said Itsa me, Mario!

• This is a crime

• He genuinely thinks she’s a princess nOOOOOO

• Krolock would never

• But I guess giovanni is just Like That

• Krolock wouldn’t complain about the smell, he would pull a face but that would be it

• The joke about the mirrors..? Is giovanni really that stupid or is he self aware and is joking with the audience?

• And the way he just stands there facing the audience in silence as they laugh… he’s got to be self aware

• Also this whole thing is so stupid in its attempts to be funny that I bet we won’t even get die unstillbare gier because giovanni could never pull off anything so genuine or serious (nor could any of the others though)

• Oh god are they semi doing einladung zum ball with the never enough stuff? But it’s not even dramatic or powerful enough ughhh

• Nooooo they made it sound all sappy and romantic when it’s supposed to be dark and commanding and… I don’t even have the words to describe it but no this is awful

• Also the lyrics feel so much more shallow than the original… and the original was so full of what was probably too many syllables that this just feels empty and drawn out

• Oh I’ve got it! Giovanni is like trying to convince her kindly like, oh sarah, that would never be enough for you, darling whereas krolock is stating a powerful fact, he’s like that would never be enough. Krolock knows that she knows and is just kind of showing her that he understands her and she should join him.

• Also michael if you sing the long note at the end, it needs to be meaningful, powerful, entrancing, inviting, exciting, dark, strong. You can’t just do a weedy weak version with no power and no meaning or purpose to the scene

• Why is mars rising

• Oh is it supposed to be a blood moon I bet it is

• This is new…

• The lyrics are all hey sarah, you can do whatever cool stuff you want, the dark side is fun haha

• There’s no story, no appeal to her character development or deeper motivations

• The staging is boring. They’re just stood there. Like two pigeons aimlessly squawking at each other, only one pigeon has decided it won’t shut up

• Giovanni’s makeup and hair are all wrong too

• Dear god only 45 minutes in

• Oh so chagal is frozen and bitten at the very least

• Oh magda and mrs chagal are both singing

• The harmonies are nice, I’ll give them that

• Ah here he goes

• Ew why is he a dog

• Oh mrs krolock is back

• Ooh manipulative he lies

• Ew alfred no kissing without asking first

• And here’s draussen ist freiheit

• Oh but it’s not about freedom, it’s bravery instead

• Why has it got a a dance beat now

• Oh no giovanni’s voice is ruining everything again

• Every time I think the music is actually alright, giovanni’s weaselly voice ruins everything

• Ah finally the end of act 1, though lesss cool when not on a house

• At only 1 hour and 4 minutes, we’ve done it. Halfway through. This is where things should start getting good but of course that probably won’t happen.

• Wait we didn’t even get gott ist tot

• Oh no here it is

• Sounds like they’re keeping it the same

• Ok michael you’re not doing too badly

• *cough* But hey that’s probably because you’re sticking to the source material *cough*

• Ah ok now it’s the end of act 1 at 1 hour, 6 minutes and 30 seconds.

• And what an hour, 6 minutes and 30 seconds they’ve been

• So, before we move on, a quick summary:

• The better parts are the parts where they actually stick to the source material

• Giovanni is the polar opposite of Krolock and therefore cannot even be called Krolock

• The jokes are awful but sometimes funny

• I’m dreading act 2

• Dear god we haven’t even seen herbert yet

• And if sarah is already at the castle, is totale finsternis even going to happen again?

• I guess we’ll find out whether we want to or not in…

Part 2!

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/64898629

Chapter 33

When Morrie was long asleep, Nick was still restless. He needed a moment for himself,  so he went into the kitchen to pour himself a night drink. The feelings he had been too tired for during the day finally broke through. Anxiety took over him, as if he was about to face a threat he couldn't cope with. In his past, he had been unaware of what he was really doing until it had been too late to take it back. Now he knew what was coming for him but instead of feeling prepared he was afraid. Everyone expected him to learn from his mistakes but he didn't know what to do. He now clutched his drink, as if it could help him. If only he could remember, then perhaps he would make out what he had to do. So he won't fail again. He pressed his eyes shut, trying to recall his fameless life with Morrie before everything had started.

Norbert had kept his promise. To everyone's surprise he had stopped dating girls. He had made it look like it was the band that kept him busy now. Actually he really spent more and more time with The Make Believes, since they had started playing in various pubs all around town. They took every opportunity to earn a reputation. Still, they were only known in their district, but they had been in Lud's Holm once, with chances to get a foothold there. After their concerts Norbert and Morrie used to spend a lot of time with each other.

Norbert's second passion besides Morrie was Richard Bates' Music Shop, that had guitars and equipment that made him dream. Because Morrie shared that passion with him, he usually came along when Norbert visited the shop. As usual, Mr. Bates wasn't surprised to see them again, but pleased. "Good day you two. What will it be this time?", he greeted them with a big smile. "Just a set of new strings and some plectrums, please," Norbert said, curiously searching the room with his eyes. The latter he kept throwing to the most enthusiastic fans as a gift, who were mostly girls. It was approved by Morrie, because it was only a part of the show.

"Strings again?", the shopkeeper asked and shook his head. "Boy, you got to be careful." "I'm experimenting," Norbert defended himself. Bates left it at that. Instead he asked Morrie: "And what's it for you?" "I'm fine. I'm just here to make sure he doesn't go astray." He and Norbert chuckled at that.

When Norbert turned his gaze back to the counter he noticed something. "Mr. Bates, you undercharged me." He held up the bill. "Oh, indeed. Seems like I miscalculated." Bates winked. "Slight error in your favor I'd say." Norbert gaped. "You're such a treasure." "Ah, It's nothing. Gotta support a young talent like you," he waved him off.

Bates liked Norbert, ever since he had sold the boy his guitar when he had been 13. And after hearing him play in the park for the first time. It had made him really proud. "Just don't spread it around," he added. "Sure not," Norbert said and quickly payed. Then his eyes fell back on a shining blue guitar, that brand new model that had been part of Bates' inventory for a few days now.

"Anything else you like?", the shopkeeper asked and Norbert only gave a longing sigh. Bates understood. "I guess even I can't miscalculate that much." "I know", Norbert sighed, eyes still on the model. "Some day, my boy. Just keep playing and I'm sure you'll make it." Norbert quietly nodded. He would've loved to stare a bit more, but he had to play another concert that night and he wanted to get some things done before that.

He said goodbye to Bates, picked up Morrie who was viewing some new equipment and left the shop with him. Morrie had become very affectionate after they had confessed each other's love. Together they strolled along the streets back to their new home. The band had moved into one of the empty demolished houses that scarred Wellington Wells and no one ever talked about. No one rebuilt them, no one took them down. They only started to pretty them up and paint them in bright colors. They were perfect for five young musicians who had no money to pay a rent. They had found a house that had only a crater on one side, so many rooms were still intact. Norbert and Morrie of course shared a room.

The others playfully called them "our two lovebirds" but they didn't know the truth. Morrie had insisted to keep it a secret. Whenever they wanted to sleep with each other, they turned up the radio. Norbert quickly found out he had something he could teach Morrie in return for all the music lessons his lover had given him. And all the time and patience he had expended for him. Morrie however didn't act stupid at all. When they calmed down they spoke about their dreams.

"I wish we could get married," Morrie said when they lied in bed together. Norbert chuckled, but asked: "Why do you think we can't?" "Norrie, you know why," his lover answered gloomily. "People would hate us." "And what if we become so famous, so popular that nobody would hold it against us?" They locked gazes. "You think that's possible?", Morrie asked. "Why not? And when we made it, I'll marry you." Norbert kissed Morrie's hand and the other boy melted away.

In the evening they had a gig that would last until late night. Norbert had started to feel more and more comfortable on stage and had also learned a lot from the more famous bands, whenever they had had the chance to meet one. He was indeed experimenting in multiple ways. Tonight, he didn't notice the man who was watching him not only for amusement.

Virgil Dainty had been watching The Make Believes for some time now, as he was doing it with every band that looked promising. They had come quite far since he had first seen them and he liked their sound. They were about to find their own style that marked themselves off from the others. Also the two lead guitarists, one of them left-handed, made them stand out. Virgil's favorite was the left-handed guitarist. He had potential. Today he was convinced that the band was ready to make a big step forward.

When Norbert left the stage after the show, he soon stared up at a tall, handsome man who suddenly stood in front of him. He already regretted that he was most likely only there to ask for the way when the man said: "Pardon me, are you Nick Lightbearer?" He spoke in a deep voice, that was loud enough to be heard over the chattering in the pub. Norbert stopped whatever he had planned to do. "Y..yes?", he stuttered. "I'd like to talk to you, if you can spare a minute." "Sure...", Norbert said, still helpless. The man gestured towards a free table and Norbert nodded.

When they sat down, the man spoke again: "My name is Virgil Dainty. I'm looking for new talents all around Great Britain and your band caught my attention the fist time I've been in this town. I've been watching you since then and I'm impressed. You've come very far." Norbert needed a second to process this. "You're watching us?" "Yes. You've got style. What bothers me is that you're too careful. You're still an insider tip. You need a bigger show, at a place where more people can see you." "We've been in Lud's Holm...", Norbert said to defend them. Virgil waved him off. "I mean outside Wellington Wells." Norbert's heart pounded now. "And where would that be?", he asked breathlessly. The man placed a piece of paper on the table and pointed at it. It was a handout from a famous music festival. Norbert gasped.

"Do you really mean this?", was all he could say. Virgil nodded. "You don't have to decide about it now. I'll be back tomorrow." Norbert stared at him with furrowed brows. "But...but what do you want in return?" "I want you to be at your best, so you won't bring shame on me," the man said, but with a playful wink. Norbert couldn't help but smile with him. He was lost in Virgil Dainty's attraction.

"You make me all flustered," he sighed when his tongue suddenly loosened. "Are you doing this on purpose?" Virgil was confused for a second, then he said: "Not at all. Sadly I have that impact on people. If you get to know me, you'll learn that I don't bite." "What if I want it?", Norbert whispered before he could stop himself. Virgil didn't flinch this time. "Then I can arrange that too," he said in his deep, calm voice. Norbert went dizzy. "Until next time, Mr. Lightbearer," Virgil added and rose from the chair. "Until next time, Mr. Dainty..." Norbert muttered more to himself, still clutching the paper. He watched the man leave the pub and then ran home.

When he entered their house his face was bright red with excitement. "Guys, guys listen! Something smashing has happened!" The band quickly gathered around him. "I met a man in the pub who wants us to play at the festival", he said waving around the paper, "And if he didn't lie to me he doesn't want anything in return." His friends stared at the handout. "Are you sure?", Brad asked. "Did he have a name?", Morrie looked at Norbert. "Virgil Dainty." "Virgil Dainty?", Matt repeated. "You mean THAT Virgil Dainty, the manager?"

"Uh..." Norbert shrugged. He had never heard about him. "I don't know." "Holy shit, man! What did you say to him?" Matt grabbed his collar. "Nothing yet," Norbert said and freed himself from his friends grab. "He set us a deadline until tomorrow." Matt was now just as excited. "Do you know what that means? Virgil fucking Dainty found us! He could be our manager!" "If we're good," Norbert added. "We are, man! If Virgil says so..." "Many people will hear us." "Finally! It's a big stage!" "We didn't do that before...", Norbert quietly said and bit his lower lip. Chris understood the hint.

"Don't chicken out now, Nick! We can't miss this chance!" "I know, I know..." Norbert massaged his temples. It was all too much. "You'll make it. And you won't be alone. I'll be always right next to you," Chris comforted him. It was true. They stood next to each other on stage. "I will hold your hand if I must." "And we'll be right behind you," Brad said and put a hand on Norbert's shoulder. "You're so sweet," Norbert sighed, then he hugged them.

At night Norbert and Morrie both couldn't sleep. "Looks like we're finally making it," Norbert whispered into the silence. Morrie kissed his cheek. "Don't be afraid, Norrie. Just be as smashing as you've been today." Norbert thankfully kissed him back, concentrating on nothing but his lover's tender lips, trying to get Virgil Dainty out of his head. That night, it worked.

The next day they were all nervous, knowing that the famous manager was watching them. He didn't show himself until the end of the show, when Norbert suddenly found him sitting at a table and waving at him. "That's him," Matt whispered when they made their way to the table and Norbert felt goosebumps all over his body. They shook hands, intodruced themselves and expressed their approval to Virgil. Norbert stayed in the background, so that Virgil already asked himself if he had been wrong about him. The others were much less shy. But then again it was possible that he was embarassed about his emotional outbreak at their last meeting. Virgil couldn't blame him for that, but he planned to cause more outbreaks from him in the future.

[somedayonbroadway]

I just had a thought, about Albert and Race fighting, because they’re best friends fight sometimes yknow. Do you think you could maybe write something about that, please?

Ya know... I didn’t mean for this to happen, but here ya go, hon! Full fledged oneshot! 

Here it is! Accidentally Hurt By a Friend! Because it fit. Little warning though... it is a Christmas fic ;)

“That Christmas Feeling”

Tile: Accidentally Hurt By a Friend 

Fandom: Newsies

Word count: 8k

Characters: Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva, Jack Kelly, Crutchie Morris, Bryan Denton, Killian DaSilva (OC), Dimitri DaSilva(OC), Jeanne DaSilva (OC), Spot Conlon (mentioned), Smalls, Paula (OC)

Summary: It’s snowing outside. Lights are hanging from every house and parents are rushing around to gather their last minute gifts. But Race is just cold. It doesn’t feel like Christmas. Not yet.

"Race, c'mon... just get in the car."

"No! I didn't ask for your opinion! You ain't my mother!"

"No, I ain't! But at least, unlike her, I'm here!"

"Oh, that's real nice, Al. Why don't you continue to rub in the fact that you still have a family, n' I don't."

It was cold. So cold. But neither of them noticed. They were too busy yelling at each other, being blinded by anger that had come upon them both so quickly. Race meet meant to start a fight. He didn't know what he'd meant to do. He just knew he hated fighting.

The redhead let out a breathy, bitter laugh. "You have Jack and Crutchie. Just cause you can't see 'em everyday, don't mean you don't got them!" Albert shot back. He was shivering. But he didn't move.

It was snowing. They were both bundled up. But it was still cold.

Wind blew by all around them. Race was mere feet from the passenger side door of Albert's old car. Albert could drive, Race couldn't. It was something they'd come accustom to. Race had spent so much time in that car. Laughing, crying, panicking. That car is where him and his best friend bonded and talked to each other about everything.

But Race did not want to get in that car right now. "Yeah, because I'm sure you know what it's like ta have one a' your brothers in jail n' the other in across the fuckin' country!"

Shaking his head, Albert took a step closer to his best friend. "Look I don't get to see my brothers everyday either!" he shot back. "Thats not even the point! The point is, Spot Conlon is bad news! What would Jack think?"

"Jack ain't here!" Race screamed, stepping forward to shove the other boy against the side of his car. He regretted the action immediately, stopping for a moment and freezing at his own outburst. He took a step back as the tears came to his eyes.

The one person he found in three years who took the time to understand him, to laugh with him and make him feel like less of a charity case had always been described as off-limits. As dangerous.

Yes, maybe he'd slept with the bad boy from Brooklyn. Maybe it would be a mistake. But it didn't feel like one. At least not yet. And Race guessed he had just wanted his best friend to be happy for him instead of treating him like a piece of glass that would break at any minute.

"Jack ain't here... n' you damn well know it. So stop tellin' me ta think about what my brother would say, alright?!" He didn't know how to stop now. He was just angry. He was just hurt. He was just alone and scared and sick of Albert treating him like some fragile package that couldn't go out into the world alone. "Spot isn't what they say. He was really sweet n' gentle n' unlike you, he makes me feel like I'm my own goddamn person!"

"Ya know what, Race? Screw you, okay?" Albert shot back, shaking his head again and stepping away from the passenger side door. "For the past three years it's been a real shit show f'r you, n' I get that. But ya know one a' these days ya gotta stop throwin' yerself a pity party because you don't like it when someone tells ya your bein' stupid!"

"You don't know a Goddamn thing, Albert!" Race cried, wishing that he could somehow just make everyone understand. Wishing that everyone knew what it was like to hurt this bad all the time. No one understood. "I don't even know why I try ta talk ta you anymore when apparently every move I make is just me actin' out because my life sucks!" He was so sick of being the fragile package. He was tired of being the one that needed protection. He was so tired of everyone shielding him from the world. He was so tired of Albert trying to control him. "At least, unlike you, I have the guts ta still live my life instead a' tryin' ta take over someone else's!"

Shoving Race back finally, Albert breathed in through his teeth. "I am just tryin' ta help you, ya dumbass! Yes! I followed you ta Brooklyn! I was scared for you, okay? Hate ta break it to ya, TJ, but you are fragile! You're life fell apart and it's okay ta be fragile!" Albert argued, his voice high pitched and irritated. People were turning to watch their argument. But Albert didn't care. "You need ta take a step back n' think about-"

"If you tell me one more time ta think about what my father would think, you shut your mouth right now," the blond boy warned darkly, glaring at his friend. Albert scowled, but didn't speak. "You lost your mother before you could remember her. You have no idea what it feels like ta lose anybody right in front a' you... so back off. Stop tryin' ta live my life, stop tryin' ta be my motha' n' stop with the goddamn fake sympathy. I don't need you!"

"I don't need you either!" Albert countered immediately, as if he was daring Race to argue with him. "Ya know what, find your own way home," he muttered. The redhead shook his head and walked around to the driver side door, pulling it open and climbing in, before slamming the thing shut again. And then he drove off, leaving Race standing there in the cold, stranded at a small coffee shop where they both happened to work after school and on the weekends.

He could just go back inside, call an Uber or something. But Race just growled out in anger and reached down into the snow, grabbing a fistful of the frozen dust in his gloved hand before chucking it at his best friend who was already halfway down the street.

Huffing when Albert made no move to turn back, Race grumbled under his breath and began walking. It couldn't be that bad. It was only snowing. He only lived three miles away.

But home is not where he wanted to go at that moment. No. So somehow, he made his way down to the subway. And he was headed downtown.

Life was far from perfect for one Tyler James Kelly, or as it said on his fake ID, Antonio Isaac Higgins. He didn't like the things that tied him to everything he'd been through. He didn't like that his name was what tipped everyone off. That it's what made everyone pity him or treat him like some kid.

He knew his life was shit. He didn't need everyone else reminding him of that.

Especially not now. Not when Christmas was right around the corner.

He pulled his coat further around him and the beanie down tighter over his head. It was cold. The fingerless gloves he wore were more for the look than warmth, as he hadn't known he'd be spending so much time outside.

Jesus, Jack really would kill him.

He should just get off, call Albert. Apologize. He shouldn't be doing this. Denton would kill him once he figured out that he hadn't gone straight home after work.

But the exit came too quickly and Race stepped off, walking down some familiar roads, sure to keep his gaze low and steady. He knew how things worked in certain neighborhoods. As long as he kept his profile low, it would be okay. He just needed to get to the right place and he'd be safe.

He knew he'd be safe.

"ID?"

Race showed it to the woman, sure to keep himself calm as he did so. They'd almost caught on a few times. But Race was a very good actor. He'd learned from the best.

"Make sure to sign in. Someone'll be out with him in a moment."

Nodding, the boy did as he was told, going through the familiar routine with no difficultly before he was led over to a seat in front of bullet proof glass. A phone was on his right. He slid his ID card back into his pocket as he waited, reaching up to rub at his eyes.

It wasn't long before someone in a grey jumpsuit was lead out to the seat across from him by one of the guards.

The second Jack saw him his eyes brightened, but Race knew his brother had to pretend to not be happy to see him.

The young man behind the glass slowly lowered himself down into the chair and took the phone just as Race did, though he was a bit slower. The boy was quick as lightning. "Again, Racer?" Jack asked in a small laugh. "You keep this up, you're gonna be the one sittin' in here, 'stead a' me," he joked.

The boy let out a small laugh too, though it was a bit sadder. There was a lot of things that were making Race's heart clench in that moment. The fact that he couldn't hug Jack, the thought of spending another Christmas without both of his brothers and the fight he'd just had with his best friend in the entire world who was the only constant he'd had in his life for the past three years.

Since his papa died.

He swallowed hard and sniffled a little bit, trying to pretend that it was from the cold when they both knew it wasn't. "Hey, Jackie..." Race whispered into he phone as his smile faded a bit.

Leaning over the counter even further, Jack sighed. "Hey, kid..." he greeted back, shooting the boy one of his famous smiles. It cheered Race up, even if only for a moment. "You know you're not s'posed ta be here without Denton," the young man whispered, giving him a knowing look.

And Race shrugged. "I just really missed you t'day... n'... I... Denton wouldn't a' let me come..." he forced out, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I'm sort a'... s'posed ta be... um..."

"Grounded," Jack finished for him, nodding a little. "I know ya think Denton just leaves me in the dark, pal, but he's in here once a week, with or without you," he stated. When he saw the look of fear pass over the boy's face he sighed again. "I won't tell him you're here if ya really don't want me to..."

The longing that Race felt coursed through his whole body. He wished beyond anything else that his brother could just hold him for a minute. He was bound to break any second now. "I just... I needed ta talk ta someone... I needed ta talk ta you..." he stated honestly, running a hand through his hair.

Nodding a bit, Jack shrugged. "Okay... I'm listenin'," he promised gently.

The way Jack looked at him was like nothing else. Jack had always been his hero growing up. He thought it would change when he'd seen Jack led out of a courtroom in handcuffs. Maybe it had, for just a little while. But he quickly came to realize that Jack was still the same Jack he'd always known.

After all, the only reason Jack had been hacking and stealing in the first place was because he'd been trying to provide for him.

"I just... me n' Al got into a fight... n'... I dunno, it's stupid..." he finally muttered out, not really wanting to complain about his small problems when he only had so long with the man who was the reason he had survived his childhood.

"Well, if it's got you upset enough ta come all the way down here, from work, n' use a fake ID ta talk ta me, it prob'ly ain't stupid... but if ya don't wanna talk about it, I got somethin' I wanna tell you," Jack offered happily, looking much too excited about something.

The mere look in his brother's eye was enough to make Race smile. Jack's excitement always gave him a warm, familiar type of feeling. Because even when they'd been on the streets, freezing and cold, Jack had always managed to make him smile. "What?" he questioned, curious.

His grin widening as he let out a small laugh, Jack shrugged. "Guess who's gettin' released in two weeks," he prompted.

The air caught in Race's chest as tears sparked in his eyes. He let his mouth hung open. "Really?" he breathed, somewhat expecting this to be some kind of mean joke.

But Jack nodded. "Yeah! I was gonna wait till Denton was here ta tell you! N' I was gonna call Crutchie tomorrow night. But... I'm gettin' outta here... December 22nd..."

With a small chuckle and tears beginning to fall down his cheeks, Race covered his lips. "You're gonna be home for Christmas," he whispered. "You're... n'... you're gonna be home!"

He couldn't describe it. The excitement he felt, that is. Jack had tears running down his face too. He was so happy. He lifted up his hand to press it up against the glass, like he wished to touch Race's face. He did. He really did. "I'm gonna start over, baby... get a job n' find my own place..."

"I'll help ya," Race offered, still overjoyed. "Whateva' ya need!"

"That's very nice, pal... but all I'm gonna need from you is a hug," he assured. Race grinned, reaching to wipe at his cheeks. "Alright, c'mon, now... what's a' matta', Tyler James? What happened?"

Oh. That. Race had almost forgotten about that. He sniffled, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand as he shook his head. "Al just... doesn't get it..." he stated, still trying to clear his tears away. He began to use his sleeves instead. "I was... just... he treats me like a goddamn piece a' glass. I know our life ain't perfect, but I don't need him treatin' me like a kid all the time!" he forced out, running another hand through his hair. "I guess I just wish I was normal," he sighed.

Jack nodded. "I'm sorry we ain't. Really... but if I know Albert, he's just lookin' out f'r you..." he tried to reason.

The younger boy went to respond, but his phone vibrated in his pocket before he could. He shook his head and rested the old phone at the crook of his neck, reaching to pull out his own.

He thought maybe it was Denton, calling him, screaming at him over text, telling him to get his ass back to the house. But that's not what it was.

Jack watched his little brother's eyes widen. "Racer?" he called, curious as to what was going on. "Kid?" he called again, when the boy continued to stare in horror at the screen in his hands.

The picture that had popped up on his screen was a text message from one of his classmates. A girl he called Smalls. With it was the message "have you seen this?"

No. Race hadn't seen it.

It was a picture of him. Him and someone else. Someone else who had a tongue down his throat. A boy. Spot Conlon. Only, Spot's face wasn't visible in that picture. No. Of course not. Only Race was.

Albert had probably sent it to her. Probably in a group chat.

"Baby brother? You're scarin' me... what is it?"

The boy licked his lips as he tried to figure out a way to respond. He knew who'd taken that picture. "I'm gonna kill him..." he muttered. Jack's eyebrows furrowed for a moment.

Just as he might've questioned his brother again, another voice spoke and Jack's eyes widened. "Oh, but you'll be dead first, now won't you?"

Race dropped the prison phone and whirled around. "Denton," he stated, simply acknowledging the man, though the fear was clear in his eyes. The man was standing there completely disappointed and stoic. He was in his late thirties at most, with brown hair and deep brown eyes.

"I told you to school, to work and back. No exceptions. Phone. Now." Denton demanded, holding out his hand. But Race didn't move.

He was too stunned. "But..."

"Tyler James Kelly, move your ass now. Give me the phone and go to the car," the man ordered again. The boy could've burst into tears right then and there.

There were already tears falling down his face. He didn't want to make a scene. He locked his phone and handed it to the man, turning back to his big brother and picking up the line. "I love you, Jackie... see ya soon..."

Jack nodded. "Love ya, kiddo..." he responded with a sorry look in his eyes. "I'll see you in two weeks, okay?"

The boy nodded and rushed past his foster dad quick, paying him no mind on his way out. Jack watched him go, his heart breaking in the process. He waited for Denton to pick up the phone. And when he did, he didn't give him the chance to have the first word. "Look, I know he's an idiot, but don't put this all on him... he n' Albert had a fight n' he ran ta me ta talk about it because that's what woulda been normal," he tried to explain, wishing beyond anything that he could just hold the boy close and tell him it was all going to be okay.

But Denton sighed. The man had heard it all before. Race did what he thought what be normal. Sometimes, it just wasn't good for him. "I know it's hard on him, not having you or Charlie... but this whole fake ID thing has to stop before it gets out of hand. I told him a week and he couldn't even survive that long without using it," he stated. He saw Jack's eyes linger down to the table in front of him as he nodded sadly. "Look, I know he misses you and I know you miss him, but he needs to learn to follow the rules-"

"Unlike me, yes I know," Jack replied, his green eyes a bit angry. Not at Denton. At himself. "Look, I'm... I just need ta say thank you... f'r taking him in... most folks wouldn't be half as good ta him as you are. So thank you... just please go easy on him..." he asked, running a nervous hand through his hair.

Nodding, Denton agreed. "I'll see you soon, Jack," he stated confidently, offering Jack a small smile.

The young man smiled. "December 22nd," he relayed to Denton, just as he had to his brother.

An odd feeling filled up in Denton's chest at the news. He couldn't depict it. Not right then. Not when Jack's was beginning to look so happy again. "I'll be there to get you. With Race. I promise."

That seemed to be all Jack needed to hear. He bit his lip as he hung the phone back up and then stood to his feet, offering the man a grateful nod before he was escorted away.

And Denton was left on his own to deal with a broken sixteen year old who he hoped had just gone to the car.

—

"Gee Race maybe if you'd just listen ta me, I might have somethin' ta say, but of course ya can't because I'm not Jack n' you can't listen ta anyone who's not Jack, not even Charlie, who, oh by the way, asked me ta keep n' eye on you before goin' off ta California even though he was really nervous about leavin' you and thought you might hate him!"

Albert was talking to himself. It was a habit he'd picked up from a young age. Sometimes it helped him get his thoughts in order. Sometimes it made him even more confused. Sometimes it just made him angry that he wasn't actually just talking to his best friend.

He pulled into his driveway, shutting the car off quickly before hitting the steering wheel and collapsing back into the driver's seat. He was so tired. He just didn't know what to do.

Race and him had been friends since they were six years old. When Race's dad has been killed in that car wreck, Albert was the only person he'd told about it. Albert was the only one who knew about Race and his brothers living on the streets, hardly able to find shelter. Albert was the only one that Race had been comfortable asking for a bed and a blanket. Race had always run to him for help when Jack and Crutchie couldn't offer anymore.

Now Race didn't need him. Because Albert had apparently had no part in getting him through the past three years.

With a huff, the red headed boy pulled his phone out of his back pocket, pulling off his gloves and typing in a familiar phone number. He let the thing ring and he let his leg bounce up and down in attempts to warm himself up in the car that was still freezing inside.

"Hello?"

"I can't do it, Charlie. He's driving me insane. I'm trying to talk to him and he won't even-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Charlie called, clearly confused and stunned. "Slow down, Albie, what's goin' on?"

Trying to take a full breath before speaking again, the boy seethed. "You need ta call, Race. He's not listening ta me. I was tryin' ta tell him it wasn't a good idea ta be sleepin' around with Spot Conlon and he lost it," he explained as simply as he could.

A beat of silence passed over the other end of the call before Charlie was able to process the information. "Spot Conlon?"

"Yes!" Albert confirmed angrily.

Charlie groaned. "Oh, Tyler James..." he muttered. "Look, Al... Tyler is just lookin' f'r some kind of outlet, okay? He's been callin' me like crazy f'r the past few days. He's really missin' me n' Jack and he figures if he can't have that, he'll find somethin' else," he tried to explain. But Albert still didn't truly understand. "Just... he's really strugglin' right now. Don't let him push you away. That won't be good f'r no one..."

Of course it wouldn't. But Race was sick of being treated delicately. Albert didn't know what to do. He just wanted his friend to be the guy he'd always been. He just wanted Race to talk to him. "Okay... okay... I'm sorry... I just... I'm so worried about him n'... we had this stupid fight and I shouldn't have left him standin' alone and I'm really sorry, but he wasn't gettin' in the car n'-"

"Jesus, it's a wonder you n' Race can ever actually hear each other," he joked. It was something both of the boys were very aware of. Nervous rambling. They could just never stop it. "Look, I'll call him. But you should too. You're his best friend n' he loves you. I'll text you after I talk ta him, okay?"

"Okay..." Albert sighed, running a hand over his face. "Okay... I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, Red. I'll talk to ya soon, okay... take a breather..."

Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, Albert nodded, though he knew his friend couldn't see him. "Okay... bye, Crutchie..."

"Bye, Al..."

It had been a long, hard year. Especially for Race. Sometimes when Albert looked at his friend it was hard not to picture the way he clung to Crutchie at the airport, tears spilling down his face as he begged his brother to stay or the way he completely broke when he had to watch Jack hauled out of a courtroom in handcuffs.

It was hard to see that crazy, bright, carefree little boy that he used to be. Race was broken. And Albert was trying to hard to just hold him together.

He supposed it was possible that his grip was too strong. That he was just making his best friend crack even faster.

He shouldn't have asked about Spot. He shouldn't have followed Race in the first place. But Race had been acting odd for the past couple weeks. It was Christmas time. Albert knew that. He also knew that last Christmas had been extremely hard on Race. The first one he'd had without Jack.

But he shouldn't have taken that picture. That was a lousy thing to do.

Before he could think further on that and let the sadness and guilt fill up in his chest even faster, his phone buzzed. He picked it up, curious as to how Charlie had talked to Race so quickly, before he found that it wasn't Charlie at all.

Paula: "do you have the notes for Algebra?"

Without hardly thinking, Albert clicked to send his classmate pictures of the notes that he'd meant to send her anyway. And then he shoved the thing into his pocket and got out of the car.

"Shit..." he muttered to himself. It really was freezing. He really shouldn't have left Race.

Rushing inside, the boy shut the door quickly behind him. "Dad?" he called, kicking his shoes off as the warmth hit him.

"Dad went off to the store! You're stuck with us," another voice replied.

And Albert smiled. "Hey, Dimitri," he greeted easily, walking around the corner to find his older brother, standing in the middle of the family room, a little, red headed girl up on his shoulders.

She was grinning so widely and had her hands on the man's forehead. "Uncle Albie!" she cried happily. Albert smiled and ran into the room.

"Jeanne!" the boy cried, taking the small girl off of her father's shoulders so that he could give her a hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squealed in delight. "Where's your mama?" he asked.

"She's at work. She's gonna pick up Killian on her way here. He insisted on making dinner today," Dimitri stated, taking his daughter back from Albert's arms. "Where's Racer? Aren't you two attached at the hip?" he teased.

Albert rolled his eyes. "No. We don't have ta do everything t'gether!" he defended, wincing at his own insistence.

Dimitri furrowed his eyebrows and held his daughter close. "Okay... Killian was gonna ask if he wanted ta stay for dinner. Sorry," he defended, taking Jeanne and walking past his little brother, running a hand over his hair on the way out.

Albert let him walk away. He pulled out his phone again, hoping for a text from Charlie. Instead, he found another text from Paula. "Who's that with Race?"

Albert's heart dropped. "Shit," he hissed, sliding open his phone to get to the conversation.

Five pictures. Only four of them were what he'd actually meant to send.

The last one was a picture he'd meant to delete.

"Really, Al? In front of the kid?" his brother asked irritated. But Albert rushed passed him and ran up the stairs.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered again and again. This wasn't just a small mistake. He'd sent that picture to Paula Greene. The gossip queen of Roosevelt High.

He opened up his Snapchat. It was the first thing he saw. "Shit!"

—

"You can't ground me f'r wantin' ta see my brotha'," Race argued, slow tears still sliding down his face. He leaned against the cool window, making a point to curl up in the corner of the subway, away from his foster father.

The man reached to put his hand on the boy's knee. Race rolled his eyes and wiped at his cheeks again. "No... you're right. I can't ground you for wanting to see your brother..." he agreed, thumbing over the kid's leg. "I can ground you for making a fake ID and not ever telling me where you're going. You know that I don't want you going down to the prison alone."

"You're not my dad!" Tyler insisted, pulling out of the man's reach. He curled in even further on himself and sniffled as his throat tightened. He hugged himself tight and refused to look Denton in the eye.

The man didn't argue with him. He didn't try to touch him again. He just let the boy ignore him for a minute as the phone in his pocket received notification after notification. Reaching into his pocket he took it out, hoping to just turn it off, before he saw the somewhat alarming messages that were popping up on his foster son's screen.

He opened it.

The boy scoffed. "Really? You're gonna look through my texts now?"

Denton ignored him, finding the thing that all the chaos was about. A picture. A picture he didn't like at all. "TJ, who is this?"

Not even looking down at the screen, Race shook his head and crossed his arms. "Nobody," he mumbled. His eyes glossed over again as he tried hard not to think about it.

But Denton was still scrolling through the cell phone. "Tyler... someone posted it..."

That's what really got Race's attention. His gaze shot over to the man. "What?" Albert wouldn't do that. Albert was still his best friend.

"Okay, calm down..." Denton tried when the boy shot up and grabbed for his small device. "Tyler, stay calm please-"

The boy grasped at his hair tightly, shaking his head. "I'm... I'm not out!" He admitted into the empty train. "Bryan, you n' my brothers n' Al are the only ones who knew!"

The man placed a quick hand on the boy's back and pulled him close, locking his phone as more messages appeared, some asking if he was okay, others teasing him and calling him names. He gently took the phone back and pulled the kid to him. Race resisted, but only for a moment. That was when he just let it all go.

He sobbed. And he let Denton have the phone. He wanted his brothers. He wanted his father. He wanted his mother to come back. He wanted it to feel like Christmas. He wanted so badly to sit in the kitchen on Jack's lap and help him decorate cookies and hear Crutchie singing carols at the top of his lungs. He wanted his brothers and his parents and he just wanted it to be Christmas.

And now his best friend was mad at him. And all he could be was angry and terrified that he was losing that too.

"Okay... it's okay..." Denton soothed, letting the boy lay in his lap and holding him gently. Race had been with him for almost a year. He loved the kid like he was his own. But Race was still having trouble without his big brothers. "It'll be okay, buddy..."

From the bottom of his heart, the man hoped it would be.

—

Eventually they made it home. Race had calmed down just a bit by then, settling for a couple sniffles and his foster father's arm around his shoulders.

It was warm inside. Race relaxed a bit at the smell of the Christmas tree that was light over in the corner. He let the dim lights calm him even further as he kicked his shoes off and left them by the door. "Lemme guess, straight ta my room?" he asked, knowing he was still in trouble.

But a hand settled down on his shoulder and before he could argue Denton had brought him back into a tight hug. And Race melted into him. "I'm sorry..." he sighed. "I didn't mean ta-"

"Shhhh..." the man soothed, rubbing a hand up and down the boy's back. "I know that it's hard. I know that you miss having Christmas with your family. I know that I'm not your biological father... but I do care about you," he promised, letting the kid rest against him, taking most of his weight. "I'm sorry about what's happenin'. I'm sure Albert didn't mean it, but that doesn't mean it's okay..."

"I just... I like Spot... n' Albert doesn't... I didn't think he would do somethin' like this..." Denton pet the kid's hair as he whispered. "I thought maybe seein' Jack would make me feel betta'..." he admitted, resting his cheek on his foster father's shoulder. "He loves Christmas time..." A small smile came onto his lips as reminisced on old memories. "One year we stayed in a shelter... Jack dressed up as Santa Claus f'r the kids... he got... um... got some money ta get them some toys n' some candy..."

A small laugh escaped Denton as he pulled away and cupped the boy's face to thumb at Tyler's tears. "That sounds like Jack," he stated with a small nod.

The boy glanced down at the ground. "It ain't fair..." he breathed.

"I know, kiddo," Denton assured. "But hey... he's comin' home... he'll be here for Christmas..."

The boy let out a small laugh. "Yeah, I gotta go out shoppin'... make up f'r last Christmas," he joked.

Denton nodded. "How 'bout we go together?"

"Okay," Race smiled, blinking and realizing for the first time how tired he was. "Can I call Charlie n' say goodnight?" he asked.

Running a hand over the boy's hair, the man nodded. "Yeah... use the home phone..."

"Alright, old man," Race teased, offering a sad smile to his guardian before sliding away from him and scooping up the phone off of the kitchen counter.

He dialed a familiar number with no hesitation and then walked into the living room, flopping back down on the couch. "Hey..." he sighed as his brother picked up the phone, not even letting the older boy get a word in.

"Hey, kid..." Charlie greeted. "I've been tryin' ta call you for a while. You okay?"

Swinging his legs over the edge of the armrest, Race shrugged. "It's been a long day..." he stated vaguely. "I saw Jack... he's doin' okay..."

"I didn't ask about Jack, buddy. I'm askin' about you," Charlie insisted. "How're you?"

Letting his eyes slide shut for a moment, the boy shrugged again. "Al n' I got in a fight t'day... n' he posted a picture a' me n' a boy... n' I'm grounded cause I went ta see Jack by myself n' now I'm tired n' I don't wanna go back ta school 'r work... n' I really miss you," he sighed, beginning to feel his body grow more and more exhausted as the minutes ticked by.

"I miss you more than ya know, pal... I'm sorry you're havin' a tough time..." his brother said sadly. "I gotta be honest though... Al called me ta tell me who you've been seein'..." he admitted. Race made a small squawk of offense before Charlie cut him off. "Hey! I'm not sayin' nothin', I just need ta ask if he's been bein' good ta you. I'm your big brother, it's my job ta look out for ya."

"I know, but-"

"Is he bein' good ta you?" Charlie pushed again.

Biting his lip as he pondered over the question, Race sighed. "Yeah... yeah he is... he's sweet on me, Charlie... I like him... I like him a lot..."

"So? Tell me about him..."

Even with his eyes still closed, Race grinned.

He began to ramble on and on about this bad boy from Brooklyn who had made a complete fool of himself while trying to ask the blond boy to just go on a date with him. He told him about the leather wearing, tattoo covered jock had bought him frozen yogurt and taken him to the mall where they'd met puppies that the older boy melted over.

And Charlie laughed. "Okay... okay... well, I'm happy for you, pal. But if he ever gives you trouble, you tell me. I'll be there in a heartbeat."

"If Jack doesn't get to him first," Race joked, running a hand through his unruly blond curls. "Thanks, Crutch..." he whispered as he saw Denton walk around the couch to face him, telling him that it was time for him to go to bed. "The old man wants me off the phone..."

Denton stuck his tongue out at him. And Race laughed.

Charlie did too. "Okay... well, Goodnight, kiddo... n' Racer?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't shut Albert out... whatever happened... I'm sure he didn't mean ta do what he did, okay? He's your best friend. He loves you..."

Without even thinking much on it, Race nodded. "I know..." he admitted. "Goodnight, Charlie... I love you."

"I love you, Tyler James," Charlie responded. And then he hung up.

Smiling a little easier, Race set the phone aside and looked up at his guardian. "Thank you, Denton," he breathed, looking more than exhausted.

The man nodded. "You're welcome, TJ," he smiled. "Now go to bed."

With a dramatic sigh, Race flung his legs over the front of the couch and stood up, walking over and wrapping his arms around his foster father's chest from behind. "Love ya," he whispered. And then he walked up the stairs to his room and quietly shut the door.

What he didn't know was the joy he'd just placed in his guardian's heart.

"Love you too, buddy..."

—

Albert awoke to the sound of his phone ringing at six AM on Sunday morning. He groaned, not even lifting his face from its place buried in his pillow as he reached for his phone and placed it next to his ear. "What?!"

"Get up. I have coffee, made by Denton. It's time ta go Christmas shoppin'."

"Racer?"

"You have fifteen minutes before I finish pancakes and come get you up myself," he threatened, before hanging up the phone.

Pancakes. Albert sat up quick. Race was already downstairs.

He did as he was told, knowing not to challenge his best friend when he made these kinds of threats, especially not when both of his brothers were hanging out, making breakfast in their kitchen.

The wake up would be brutal.

He was up in seconds, practically barreling down the stairs and into the kitchen where he saw his best friend laughing up at the kitchen island with Albert's four year old niece talking about something with chocolate chip pancakes filling up her mouth. No one understood her. But it sure was entertaining.

"Race..."

The blond boy turned to him, his smile fading just a bit. But Race didn't yell. He didn't scream. He just nodded. "Hey, Albie. I brought you some famous 'Denton coffee'," he offered, grabbing a travel mug off the counter. "And Killian is makin' you pancakes so that we can hit the road soon," he explained easily.

Albert cocked his head to the side, but took the offered coffee. Denton made the best coffee. "Uh... thanks..." he breathed, his voice still rough with sleep.

The slightly taller boy nodded and went to turn back to his pancakes.

But Albert was quick. He rushed forward and embraced his best friend, shocking him for a minute. "I'm so sorry, Race!" he whispered out quick. "I didn't mean ta send no one that picture! I swear! I thought I deleted it n'-"

"Albert, calm down!" Race insisted, pulling out of the embrace. "It's okay... I just... I realized that, you're my best friend... and it would take so much time ta find another one if I killed ya," he joked, pulling away and ducking when Albert swatted at him. "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry too! I know you're just tryin' ta look out f'r me, Al. Sometimes it's just... hard..." he admitted with a small shrug.

"How's Jackie doin', Racer?" Killian asked as he flipped over some pancakes on the stove.

"Doin' just fine, man... he's, uh, he's gettin' released in two weeks," he admitted, grinning when Albert gasped at the news. Killian turned around, his face lighting up too. "Yeah, he just told me yesterday. He'll be home for Christmas!"

Albert smiled. It was no wonder Race was so happy all of the sudden. He wasn't complaining. He was sure Race would still be mad at him from time to time. But right now, Race was too happy to angry.

He just wanted it to be Christmas.

"I'm so happy for you, Teej," he said. Race giggled and hugged him again. "We shoppin' for Jack?"

Race nodded. "Yeah... and some others..." he admitted.

"Well then... let's get this show on the road!"

—

Race stood practically bouncing up and down in the light snow as he waited. He'd never smiled so much in his whole life.

Because there, walking towards him, was the very person who'd raised him. The one who'd done everything in his power to make sure he'd be okay.

There was Jack, wearing jeans and a leather jacket that Denton insisted he have. He had one of his old beanies on his head and his old, worn boots. He grinned when his eyes landed on his little brother.

And he started running.

Race couldn't help it. He ran too.

He giggled when they collided and Jack lifted him up off the ground in a bone crushing embrace. "Hey there, baby!" the young man cried, holding the kid close to his chest and walking him back over to Denton's car, the boy's feet dangling just above the asphalt.

He seemed even more physically built than Race had last noticed. He didn't pay much mind to it. He tightened a hand in Jack's hair and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "Hey, Jackie," he breathed, sobs wanting to rip from his throat. He held them back. They were still in public. He could wait.

He was happy. All he could be was happy.

"I missed you, Tyler James," Jack laughed, setting his boy back on his feet before inspecting him. "Alright, what d'we have here? I see three eyes, one ear, little horns, and... hey, these fangs look new!" he teased, ruffling the boy's hair before planting a kiss on his forehead.

Race just laughed. "I'm exactly how ya left me. Just a little taller," he added, giving Jack a wink. And Jack swooped in to hug him again. Race held fast to him, letting Jack drop quick, loving kisses all over his face and neck. The stubble growing around his big brother's cheeks and chin made it tickle. Race didn't care.

It was made clear quickly how badly Jack wished never to let go of his baby brother. Race never minded that. He was still bouncing. His face was buried in his brother's chest. He couldn't see the tears glistening in the man's eyes.

"Welcome back ta the real world, Jackie," another voice cut it.

Jack looked up from Race's long blond curls to see Albert standing beside the car, smiling contently. Denton was beside him. They all had tears in their eyes. So Jack pecked another kiss to his little brother's temple and lifted him up and over his shoulder. The boy squealed and laughed, just as his foster father and best friend did. Jack grinned, bringing Albert into a side hug. "Hey, little Red! How's it goin', kid?"

"Not too bad, Jackie," he promised. "I don't know how you kept him out of trouble for so long, though," Albert teased. The young man ruffled his hair.

Then Jack moved over to Denton who he immediately shook hands with. "Thank you," was all he was truly able to say.

Denton nodded. "Thank you for raising such a spectacular kid," he shot back.

Nodding and breathing out hard, his breath visible in the cold, Jack gently set his brother down as the tears escaped him. Happy, grateful, relieved tears. Those words had put them there.

Race grinned up at his brother when he was set back on the ground. Jack was looking at him with such pride and wonder all at once. "I love you so much, Tyler," he said again, wanting to cry even more. "So... so much..."

"I love you too, papa-bear," Race teased.

"Well, hey, has everyone forgotten about me?" a voice called from inside the car.

Jack's head shot over to the source. He almost collapsed. "Charlie?!" he cried, rushing over to the door and wrenching it open. The boy was sitting there with tears rushing down his cheeks and a charming grin that shines brighter than the sun. "I thought you couldn't come until-"

"I finished my finals early n' decided, eh I guess I'll go see my big brother," he stated cheekily. "But none a' that standin' out in the snow, shit. It's cold."

Shaking his head, Jack grabbed his brother by the wrist and pulled him closer until he was able to bring him into a proper embrace. The slightly younger boy stood on one leg, the other in a brace. A crutch lie on the ground of the car. Jack didn't pay any mind to it. He just held his brother close.

Race watched the scene in delight, stepping closer to his best friend and letting the redhead sling an arm around his shoulder.

December 22nd. It was Race's favorite day.

It felt like Christmas. It really did.

—

"Hey, Race?"

"Yeah, Al?"

"I'm really sorry f'r... ya know..."

"Outing me to the entire school and all of our coworkers?" Race asked, turning to look at his friend. They both lay over Race's bed, Race sideways one way his feet hanging off the right side of the bed, and Albert the other, with his feet dangling over the left. "Or f'r followin' me ta Brooklyn or basically bein' the stalker we all know you really are?"

Albert grabbed a pillow and hit his friend with him. Race let out a noise of false distress before laughing. "You deserve betta' n' what ya got, ya know?"

"Don't matta'," Race promised. Albert turned his head towards his friend. "I mean... I'm one a' the lucky ones. Throughout everythin'... I always had you... even if we were mad at each otha'," he explained.

Albert nodded as a smile took over his face. "I love ya, my brotha'," he stated as Race sat up and grabbed the Santa hat that lay on his nightstand.

Race put the thing on and turned back to him. "I love you, my Albie!" he whispered before standing up and rounding the bed, extending his hand to the other boy. "Shall we play Santa Claus?"

With a quiet laugh and a nod, Albert accepted. "We shall!"

Together, they bundled up a bag of gifts and tiptoed into the living room.

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight!" Race whispered into the quiet house.

Albert laughed.

It really was a Merry Christmas after all.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Much love! 

@badthingshappenbingo

[1899-newsboy-strike]

Support - Crutchie Morris Imagine

Request: hi I know I'm late to request this and I am terribly sorry and you can totally ignore this but I was wondering if you could write something where it's Crutchie x black reader in the newsies era and they have to hide their relationship but one day one of the newsies finds out and tells everyone else and they're really supportive and start to tease Crutchie on how he got a beautiful girl like (y/n)

Warnings: implied racism

———————————–

You’d been somewhat of a maid ever since your mother had passed away. The people she had worked for before she had died took you in only for you to take her place in cleaning and working around the house. Everything seemed to be too much, but then you’d met Crutchie. Everyday that you’d had a day off you’d spend as much time with him as you could. You wished you didn’t have to keep your relationship a secret, but you knew what reaction you would have gotten if people saw the both of you together.

“Hey Y/N.” Crutchie greeted you in your usual spot making you smile.

“Hey, I missed you.” You explained, pulling him in for a small kiss. “How’d selling go today?” You asked. Both of you spoke about your days for what seemed like hours, neither of you realizing you were being watched. 

Crutchie had given you his usual kiss goodbye, walking back to the lodging house as though it was any other ordinary day. Things seemed to be different when he entered the lodging house, everyone was whispering and giggling like school girls. He couldn’t help but feel on edge, seeing that everyone had been looking at him.

“Crutchie I didn’t know you got yourself a goil.” Crutchie heard from behind him making him stiffen. “Yeah, heard she’s a looker.” Someone else pitched in making his heart start beating out of his chest.

“I- um- I don’t know what you guys are talkin’ about.” Crutchie stuttered out making many of them laugh.

“You don’t gotta lie to us Crutch, I saw the both of you earlier. You caught yourself a cute one didn’t you?” Race explained, wrapping his arm around Crutchie’s shoulder. Crutchie wasn’t surprised that Race had been the one who told everyone. If it had been anyone else they may have not even brought it up, or came to talk to him about it in private.

“When do we get to meet her?” Jack asked making Crutchie’s face turn completely red. 

“I don’t know you guys. We ain’t exactly your usual couple.” Crutchie explained scratching the back of his neck trying to not give too much away in case Race didn’t tell them about everything.

“We don’t care ‘bout the color of her skin. If you’s happy, then we’s happy.” Albert gave Crutchie a small smack on the back making him look around to see everyone’s smiling faces that were almost egging him on. “Come on, you’s should invite her over. We’s gonna love her.” Albert gave Crutchie a little shake, everyone going back to what they had been doing before while Jack kept talking to Crutchie about his girlfriend.

The next time you had seen each other Crutchie brought up everything about his friends. You couldn’t help but feel on edge, not expecting Crutchie to invite you back with him. 

“Crutchie I don’t know.” You shook your head, looking down at your feet. “They’re not going to like me.” You explained making Crutchie lift up your chin to make you look at him. 

“They’s gonna like you. They’s dyin’ to meet you, they won’t stop beggin’.” Crutchie kissed your nose making you smile. It still took a bit of convincing for you to go back with him, but you were finding yourself wiping your sweaty palms on your dress every few seconds. “I gotta warn you, they’s gonna be a bit much, but you get used to it.” He warned you when you both reached the door of the lodging house. You nodded your head slightly, following Crutchie closely behind while you looked around the lodging house seeing the line of bunk beds in the room.

“Crutch!” You heard someone call out, and before you could register where the voice had came from the room was filled with the sound of footsteps. “You must be Y/N.” One of them said holding their hand out for you to shake. “My name’s Jack.” He smiled.

“It’s nice to meet all of you.” You told them all softly once everyone was introduced. 

“Better keep your eye on her Crutch or one of us might steal her away from you.” Race explained, patting Crutchie on the shoulder making your face heat up. Race gave you a small wink before Crutchie’s crutch came and wacked him in the ribs making you laugh slightly. 

You couldn’t have been happier that you met all the boys, and you were surprised at how supportive and accepting the boys were about your relationship with Crutchie, only caring about whether you made him happy or not. Whenever you would come around everyone would make it their job to jokingly flirt with you to get under Crutchie’s skin. Everyone had always been able to mess with everyone that had a girlfriend, and now that Crutchie finally had one it was his turn to deal with the loving teasing from all of his friends, and he couldn’t have asked for a better girl to be there to deal with it with him.

———————————–  

Tag List: 

@hats-or-badges @theatrequeer @snakeyboimusical @mariah-vg @mathletemadison @briefexpertgladiator @the-moon-looks-old-and-gray @neko-kaiyo

[annie-banks]

Adore You - Harry Styles (2019) // you’re wonder, under summer sky // All About That Bass – Meghan Trainor (2014) // every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top // Alone Again – Betty Who (2014) // when it rains it pours and you drown me out // Anything Could Happen – Ellie Goulding (2012) // letting darkness grow, as if we need it's palette and we need it's color // Bad Girls - M.I.A. (2012) // leaving boys behind ‘cause it’s illegal just to kill // Bitch Better Have My Money - Rihanna (2015) // your wife in the backseat of my brand new foreign car // Blank Space – Taylor Swift (2014) // darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream // Bloodbuzz Ohio – The National (2010) // I was carried to Ohio in a swarm of bees // Bo$$ – Fifth Harmony (2014) // boss. Michelle Obama. purse so heavy gettin' Oprah dollas // Boy Problems - Carly Rae Jepsen (2015) // I think I broke up with my boyfriend today and I don't really care // Boys - Charli XCX (2017) // I wish I had a better excuse like I had to trash the hotel lobby // Butterflies - Kacey Musgraves (2018) // I was hiding in doubt till you brought me out of my chrysalis // Call Me Maybe – Carly Rae Jepsen (2011) // before you came into my life I missed you so bad // Call Your Girlfriend – Robyn (2010) // don't you tell her how I give you something that you never even knew you missed // Canyon Moon - Harry Styles (2019) // doors yellow, broken, blue // Chandelier – Sia (2014) // I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry // Cherry - Harry Styles (2019) // I confess I can tell that you are at your best, I'm selfish so I'm hating it // Circles - Post Malone (2019) // we couldn't turn around, 'til we were upside down // C’mon - Panic! At the Disco and Fun. (2011) // feels like I am falling down a rabbit hole, falling for forever, wonderfully wandering alone // C’Mon – Kesha (2012) // feeling like a saber-tooth tiger sipping on a warm budweiser // Cruise (Remix) - Florida Georgia Line ft. Nelly (2012) // she was sippin' on southern and singin' Marshall Tucker, we were falling in love in the sweet heart of summer // Daddy Lessons - Beyonce ft. Dixie Chicks (2017) // it’s your song // Dark Fantasy – Kanye West (2010) // too many Urkels on your team, that's why your wins low // Death of a Bachelor - Panic! At the Disco (2016) // the lace in your dress tingles my neck, how do I live? // Demons- Sleigh Bells (2012) // They're gonna stand em up six by six by six // Diane - Cam (2017) // And all those nights that he's given to me I wish that I could give them back to you // Diane Young – Vampire Weekend (2013) // you torched a Saab like a pile of leaves // Downtown - Macklemore & Ryan Lewis ft. Eric Nally, Melle Mel, Grandmaster Caz, Kool Moe Dee (2016) // neighbors yelling at me like, you need to slow down going thirty-eight, Dan, chill the fuck out, mow your damn lawn and sit the hell down // End of the Day - One Direction (2015)// I told her that I loved her, just not sure if she heard. the roof was pretty windy and she didn't say a word, party died downstairs, had nothing left to do just me, her and the moon // Fireproof – One Direction (2015) // riding on the wind and I won't give up // ***Flawless – Beyonce ft. Nicki Minaj (2013) // mayday, mayday, earth to bitches // Follow Your Arrow - Kacey Musgraves (2013) // if you save yourself for marriage, you're a bore. if you don't save yourself for marriage, you're a whore-able person // Formation - Beyonce (2016) // always stay gracious, best revenge is your paper // Forrest Gump – Frank Ocean (2012) // my fingertips and my lips, they burn from the cigarettes // Freaks and Geeks – Childish Gambino (2011) // I have worked all winter, I will not fail summer, in the back of the bush, like Gavin Rossdale's drummer // Gay Pirates - Cosmo Jarvis (2011) // and I hope they didn't tie up your hands as tight as mine. I'll see you on the bed of this blue ocean, babe, sometime // Get Lucky – Daft Punk ft. Pharrell Williams (2013) // the present has no ribbon, your gift keeps on giving // Glory - Bastille (2016) // and then you put your hand in mine and pulled me back from things divine, stop looking up for heaven, waiting to be buried // Good Grief - Bastille (2016) // caught off guard by your favourite song, I'll be dancing at a funeral, dancing at a funeral // Green Light - Lorde (2017) // I whisper things, the city sings them back to you // Grown - Little Mix (2015) // no regrets, it's a lesson learned 'cause what you think ain't my concern // Hayloft - Nickel Creek (2014) // young lovers with their legs tied up in knots // Holocene – Bon Iver (2011) // and at once I knew I was not magnificent // I Believe - Original Broadway Cast (2011) // and I believe that the Garden of Eden was in Jackson County, Missouri // I Like It - Cardi B, Bad Bunny, and J Balvin (2018) // I like those Balenciagas, the ones that look like socks // I Love It – Icona Pop ft. Charli XCX (2012) // you're from the '70s, but I'm a '90s bitch // Judas – Lady Gaga (2011) // I'm just a holy fool, oh baby he's so cruel, but I'm still in love with Judas, baby // Juice - Lizzo (2019) // I be drippin' so much sauce got a bitch lookin' like RAGÚ // Just Hold On - Steve Aoki ft. Louis Tomlinson (2016) // feels like you're standing on the edge looking at the stars and wishing you were them // Laura Palmer – Bastille (2013) // what a year and what a night, what terrifying final sights put out your beating heart // Lemonworld – The National (2010) // I gave my heart to the Army, the only sentimental thing I could think of // Love on Top – Beyonce (2011) // I can see the stars all the way from here, can't you see the glow on the window pane // Make Me Feel - Janelle Monáe (2018) // it's like I'm powerful with a little bit of tender, an emotional, sexual bender // Making the Most of the Night - Carly Rae Jepsen (2015) // baby I'm speeding and red lights, I'll run // Meet Me in the Hallway - Harry Styles (2017) // just let me know I'll be on the floor, on the floor // Menswear – The 1975 (2013) // well, who's this? going for the kiss, I'm probably gonna yosh in your mouth // Mirrors – Justin Timberlake (2013) // if you ever feel alone and the glare makes me hard to find, just know that I'm always parallel on the other side // Monster – Kanye West ft. Jay-Z, Rick Ross, Nicki Minaj, and Bon Iver (2010) // you could be the king but watch the queen conquer // The Mother We Share - Chvrches (2012) // I'm in misery but you can't see, as old as your omens // My Church - Maren Morris (2016) // I just keep the wheels rolling, radio scrolling 'til my sins wash away // N****s in Paris - Jay-Z and Kanye West (2011) // Prince William's ain't do it right if you ask me 'cause I was him, I would have married Kate and Ashley // Oh, What a World - Kacey Musgraves (2018) // did I know you once in another life? are we here just once or a billion times? // Old Town Road (Remix) - Lil Nas X ft. Billy Ray Cyrus (2019) // cowboy hat from Gucci, Wrangler on my booty // Otis – Jay-Z and Kanye West (2011) // luxury rap, the Hermes of verses, sophisticated ignorance, write my curses in cursive // Pineapple Girl - Mister Heavenly (2011) // I am besieged by the vagaries of power. I'm all alone and lonely in this tower // Primadonna – Marina and the Diamonds (2012) // I know I've got a big ego, I really don't know why it's such a big deal though // Pumped Up Kicks – Foster the People (2010) // he's got a rolled cigarette, hanging out his mouth he's a cowboy kid // Radio - Lana Del Rey (2012) // pick me up and take me like a vitamin 'cause my body's sweet like sugar venom // Raising Hell - Kesha ft. Big Freedia (2019) // hungover, heart of gold, holy mess. doin' my best, bitch, I'm blessed // Rivers and Roads - The Head and the Heart (2011) // been talking 'bout the way things change // Royals - Lorde (2013) // we don't care, we aren't caught up in your love affair // S.O.B. - Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats (2015) // I'm going to cover myself with the ashes of you and nobody's gonna give a damn // Satisfied - Original Broadway Cast (2015) // it's a dream and it's a bit of a dance, a bit of a posture, it's a bit of a stance. He's a bit of a flirt, but I'm 'a give it a chance. I asked about his fam'ly, did you see his answer? his hands started fidgeting, he looked askance? he's penniless, he's flying by the seat of his pants // Sex – The 1975 (2013) // and she said use your hands and my spare time, we've got one thing in common it's this tongue of mine // Shake It Out – Florence + the Machine (2011) // our love is pastured such a mournful sound, tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground// Shut Up and Dance - Walk the Moon (2014) // my discotheque Juliet teenage dream // Silly Love Songs - Darren Criss (2011) // how can I tell you about my loved one // Some Nights - Fun. (2012) // this is not one for the folks at home, I'm sorry to leave, mom, I had to go. who the fuck wants to die alone all dried up in the desert sun? // Someone Like You – Adele (2011) // we were born and raised in a summer haze, bound by the surprise of our glory days // Sorry - Justin Bieber (2015) // *dolphin noises* // Spaceship - Kesha (2017) // I knew from the start I don't belong in these parts. there's too much hate, there's too much hurt for this heart // Stars - Fun. (2012) // some nights I rule the world with bar lights and pretty girls, but most nights I stay straight and think about my mom // Stitches - Shawn Mendes (2015) // needle and the thread gotta get you out of my head // Sunflower, Vol. 6 - Harry Styles (2019) // *gasp* your flowers just died, plant new seeds in the melody // Super Bass - Nicki Minaj (2010) // and he ill, he real, he might gotta deal. he pop bottles and he got the right kind of build. he cold, he dope, he might sell coke. he always in the air, but he never fly coach // Take Me to Church - Hozier (2013) // I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife // Thank u, Next - Ariana Grande (2018) // she taught me love, she taught me patience, how she handles pain // The Pachanelly Canon - Gentleman’s Rule (2012) // I'm getting pages out of New Jersey, from Courtney B telling me about a party up in NYC. can I make it? damn right I be on the next flight. payin cash. first class. sittin' next to Vanna White // The Wire - Haim (2013) // I just know, I know, I know, I know that you're gonna be okay anyway // Theme From “Cheers” - Titus Andronicus (2010)// I'm sick and tired of everyone in this town being so goddamn uptight, but don't you worry, I'll do all the talking when they turn on the flashing lights // Thieves – She & Him (2010) // I'm not a prophet, old love is in me. new love just seeps right in and makes me guilty // This is America - Childish Gambino (2018) // tell somebody, you go tell somebody. grandma told me, get your money, black man // Trouble - Neon Jungle (2013) // lights up let's have a toke, pour more whiskey in my coke .. Truth Hurts - Lizzo (2017) // you coulda had a bad bitch, non-committal // Uma Thurman - Fall Out Boy (2015) // and I slept in last night's clothes and tomorrow’s dreams, but they are not quite what they seem // Wetsuit – The Vaccines (2011) // with a cool, cool breeze and dirty knees, I rest on childhood memories // What a Feeling - One Direction (2015) // when the air ran out and we both started running wild, the sky fell down // Wilson - Fall Out Boy (2018) // I'll stop wearing black when they make a darker color // Wolves - One Direction (2015) // I feel the waves getting started, it's a rush inside I can't control // You Need Me, I Don’t Need You - Ed Sheeran (2011) // melody music maker, reading all the papers, they say I'm up and coming like I'm fucking in an elevator // You’re in Love With a Psycho - Kasabian (2017) // I'm like the taste of macaroni on a seafood stick

Songs that would have made the list were they on Spotify: We Can’t Stop - Bastille // I Love Clothes (Deadbeat Summer) - Childish Gambino //  G.O.O.D. Friday - Kanye West ft. Common, Pusha T, Kid Cudi, Big Sean & Charlie Wilson // Driving in Cars with Boys - Lana Del Rey // Blurred Lines - Vampire Weekend // a number of mashups (Office Musik, What Makes You Da One, Live While We Die Young, Brush Your Bittersweet Shoulders Off, We Are Complicated)

[rockcampfifteen]

How I Got to Sesame Street: Bill Sherman Talks Working with Lin-Manuel Miranda, Where He Keeps His Grammys, and Being Ignored by Big Bird

I didn’t think that Rock and Roll Camp XV was even going to happen this year, if I’m being honest, but nothing about this year has been predictable, so here we are. A dozen campers and about as many counselors in a Zoom meeting. We made it work, and it worked well. Since camp wasn’t a physical, in-the-moment experience, there wasn’t a lot of opportunity for photos or camper interviews, but we did get the chance to interview Bill Sherman, an Emmy, Tony, and Grammy award winning musician. Bill has worked on musicals like Hamilton and In the Heights and is a music director for Sesame Street. He was laid-back, down-to-earth, and didn’t give any impression that he was full of himself. Bill didn’t act like most award-winning musicians and talked openly about his life and experiences. He mentioned that he had been stuck in traffic, and that he was worried he’d be late for our interview. We knew that he was taking us seriously, that he didn’t just see us as a bunch of kids wanting to have a talk. 

-Elsa

Elsa: I just want to say we appreciate you taking the time to talk to us. We’ve got a lot of questions, so we’ll jump right in. What was the first instrument you learned to play, and what attracted you to it?

My parents got me piano lessons when I was in elementary school, and I was super not into it. I believe the teacher’s name was Mrs. Record—which is hilarious for a music teacher’s name—and she taught me for a couple years, and I was terrible at it, so I quit. And then in fourth grade we had to pick an instrument, and the music teacher where I went to school was a woodwind player. He was like, ��Bill you should play the clarinet.” I was like, “Okay, sounds great.” And then in sixth grade—this is a good story—he goes, “You know, the clarinet has the same mechanics and fingerings of saxophones,” and I was like, “No way, that sounds like a way cooler instrument than the freaking clarinet.” If any of you are clarinet players, I don’t mean to offend you. Also, I still play the clarinet. Anyway, he showed me the saxophone and I was immediately attracted to it. And when he left the room, I took the saxophone and left with it and I didn’t tell him. So I stole it. I took it home. And it became my thing. I was obsessed with it. My teacher’s name was Gary Meyer. He later went on to be my private saxophone teacher for like a hundred years, until I went to college, and now, he in fact works for me. He plays in the Sesame Street Band. He’s a woodwind player. So it was a pay-it-forward, full circle moment, to have my fourth grade music teacher be in my band.

I got really into jazz. I went to a real big jock high school, and I stopped playing sports and just played saxophone, all day every day, all the time. And in college it became my identity. Mike can attest—I was the saxophone guy. I led bands, and I played all the time… if you see movies about colleges, and there’s a music guy? I was kind of that guy. 

I later taught myself to play piano—another full circle moment—because composing on the saxophone for anybody is a difficult thing to do. I have a number of guitars that I have no idea how to play.

Elsa, by the way, has your name become like the coolest ever since the whole Frozen situation? My kids would think that’s the coolest thing ever.

Elsa: Frozen came out when I was in about second grade, and of course I was so hyped for it. I went to a theater with a friend of mine, and afterwards I was like, “Oh, I was the Ice Queen, oh yeah!!” And of course you go back to elementary school, and everyone’s like, “Oh, you have ice powers,” and so pretty soon I was tired of that. But it’s kind of gone away. It went away for a few years, and people stopped associating it with my name. And then Frozen 2 came out and here we are again—

(Bill Laughs.)

Michael: I have a question for you, Bill.

Okay, Mike. Does everybody know that Mike used to be this amazing trumpet player, and he was in my band, and he wrote for the band, and he packed this unbelievable punch, and he was like this tall, and he was this awesome powerhouse, and truth be told... I don’t know if he knows this, but in certain theory classes I would cheat off him, because he had a way better ear than I did.

Michael: I wasn’t going to bring it up, but I do think it’s hilarious that I was better at theory than you. But so anyway, in the band, you were the only one really bringing in your own songs—so I’m wondering where the urge and the confidence to start writing your own material came from?

In high school I wrote poems, and then my senior year of high school, I wrote this instrumental thing and I played it at my graduation. All the people who thought I was a nerd for being into music, they stood up and clapped and I thought that was so freaking cool. That was my first move into composing. And in college it was just kind of what we did. It just seemed like how hard can it be? You start breaking down pop tunes… at that time, we were kind of doing jam band, Ozomatli tunes, four chords and the truth. And you find that pop music in general is four chords and the truth. Like the Foo Fighters: they play four chords really quietly, and then the same four chords way louder, that’s just what they do, and it’s awesome, and it works every time. 

The other thing about writing music is that it’s very hard to know if you’re quote unquote “good at it.” I’ve written thousands of songs, and I’d say 75% of them are terrible. But 25% of them people really dig into, and then you wonder, Why this song? Like for Sesame Street, I get very immediate feedback. My friends who have kids, they’ll immediately let me know, This is the song. I wrote this song for Maren Morris on Sesame Street called “Oops, Whoops, Wait, Aha” which is about children calming down, waiting to answer a question, not just like going crazy, and people will send me photos or videos of their kids dancing along to this particular tune, which is great. But that’s the first time in four years that anybody’s contacted me, and in those four years I’ve written hundred of songs that nobody cares about. And so, if you get a good one every four years, that’s great. Songwriting is like anything, you’ve gotta  try it, and then you try it some more. 

The other best way to do things that are creative and original is to at first emulate people. That’s what we were doing—Mike and I in our band in college. I liked Salif Keita, and I liked Fela Kuti, and I was like, I can write a song like this. We wrote songs that sounded, almost exactly like Fela Kuti tunes. It’s not really original, it definitely sounds like something you’ve heard before, but that’s how you learn how to do it. Study the craft, how other people did it.

Marilla: On Sesame Street, how do you write thousands of songs and not make them all sound the same?

That’s a really good question. I have in fact repeated myself a number of times. I was working on another show a couple years ago, and I wrote this song, and it was great, and they loved it, and then a year and a half later I sent them another song, and they got back to me and were like, “Hey, sorry to say this, but I’m pretty sure this is this,” and they sent me back the song I’d written previously, and it was almost the same exact song, and it was so freaking embarrassing. But I’ve talked with Max Martin about this, and what he does is collaborate. Invite people in. Not to steal their knowledge, but he constantly has new people coming into his fold, because I think you’re right, after a while you just start repeating yourself. 

The fun thing about Sesame Street is that it can be any genre. Nothing is genre specific. I can write a hip hop tune one day. And a bossanova the next day. And a ballad another day... One of my favorite things about Sesame Street is that we’re able to bring on new people to keep it interesting and fresh. I’ve been employing more women lately, because there was a time when my writing staff was really male-heavy. Also, Abby is a girl, Rosita is a girl, we need to have that voice. Lately my job at Sesame Street has become more of being like a procurer of music, as opposed to physically writing it—more of like a producer role. People send me stuff all the time. Feel free to get my email from Mike if you have songs you want me to listen to... I will listen to anything.

Lyla: Do you have any advice for younger people—or people in general—when it comes to writing and creating music?

My advice would be to not give up. Not everyone is going to like your stuff. There’s just no way. It’s not gonna happen. It’s a lot of work to be a songwriter, because you’ll write 100 songs, and 98 of them will be terrible, and two of them will be great. 

My first couple years in college, I got asked to be in like 100 bands, and I said yes to everyone. Because initially, you have to say yes to everything. You have to play in a crappy cover band. And you have to play in a cool band like we were in, and you have to play in a funk band, because everybody plays in a funk band in college, and then you get to a point where you turn a corner, and then you can start saying no. I didn’t start saying no until five years ago. 

Lyla: Another question I have is that you mentioned you used to play in a lot of bands in college, and earlier you mentioned playing at your senior year graduation—did you ever think you would come this far, working with Lin-Manuel Miranda, and writing big musical pieces? Did you ever expect to earn awards or anything?

Well, no. I don’t think you ever expect awards. Success is a whole other thing—you can’t prepare yourself for things like that, it just sort of happens. In the process of saying yes to everything, I got myself into positions that I never would have expected. But when we were in college, all I wanted was to be a saxophone player, and move to New York, and make no money, and just sort of grind it out, and then I met Lin my sophomore year of college. I music directed his musical. And I had never music directed a musical, I had no idea what that meant, but I said yes. And I went on to direct all of his musicals in college, and then we graduated college, and we were roommates forever, and then it was like, “Hey, people want to make In the Heights into something,” and I was like, “Okay, that seems like the most logical thing to be doing,” so  we made In the Heights…

I got involved in musicals just randomly, because I said yes to something. I’d never liked musicals. I’d seen Rent, with the original cast, but I’d never listened to Sondheim, or Andrew Lloyd Webber…

But the success thing, it all happened very quickly. Between the ages of 22 and 26. In those four years, it was like marriage, children, awards. I wasn’t expecting any of that stuff.

People come over to my house and pose with my awards, which makes me really uncomfortable, and then one person drank out of the Grammy once... that happened. I have a platinum record in my bathroom. I didn’t know where else to put it. 

Elsa: Have you ever thought about writing your own musical?

It’s weird to go from writing minute and a half long songs that are like a single verse and a chorus, to writing these ten minute long opuses that have to have all this narrative in them, and do all this stuff—it’s definitely a different side of my brain. With & Juliet, it was taking Max Martin’s music and turning it into a musical. Deconstructing all these pop hits like “Oops I Did It Again.”

Marilla: How did it feel to see Hamilton on Disney Plus all these years after you worked on it?

It was far out. It was like seeing an old friend. It’s filmed really well, and you’re seeing views of things you’ve never seen before, it sounds fantastic… it just brought back a lot of old memories. Chris Jackson has been my best friend for like a hundred years, and so has Lin, and seeing them on stage, it was a reminder of how good they are… Now, years later, my children have memorized the record, they’re singing the whole thing, which is unbelievably irritating. My daughter—she thinks she knows the whole thing, but she really doesn’t, she just makes up her own lines during the really fast parts, which is really funny, and makes me laugh. I watched it the day it came out. It was a nice excuse to reach out to friends and tell them how good it is, how good they are.. And at a time when theaters are closed, it was cool to see people excited about seeing theater..

Lizzy: What’s your favorite thing to work on, out of all these different projects?

When we were in college, I thought being in a band was the coolest thing ever, and I wanted to play live music for my whole life, and I didn’t want to do anything else. And now I do other things, and all I want to do is play in a band in front of people! Once a year Sesame Street has a gala that some very famous person will come and play at. Last year it was John Legend, two years ago it was Michael Buble, and so there was this big band, and I played in it, and I had so much fun. I kind of miss performing. I play in this thing called Freestyle Love Supreme, which is this documentary that was on Hulu, we make up rap songs--and that’s fun, but I play keyboards, sort of behind the scenes, and so I sort of miss having a band, like we did in college. I’m getting all these memories, Mike, about WestCo Cafe.

These days my favorite thing is collaborating with new folks. We just finished the In the Heights movie, which comes out next year, Sesame Street goes into production in a couple weeks… I’ve been incredibly lucky and honored to do what I do, so talking about it always makes me feel sort of strange, because to me it’s just what I do, but to you it’s like, there’s no way that’s a real job, and explaining it sounds ridiculous, and I’m glad you wanted to listen to me talk about myself for half an hour.

Peter: What’s it like working with Big Bird?

Every day that I walk on to the Sesame Street set, I kind of have to pinch myself a little bit. The guy who played Big Bird passed away a couple years ago. He’s also the guy who played Oscar the Grouch, and he didn’t really know me for a couple years, and then I went to an award show, and I won an award, and he’s actually the guy who presented it to me, and so he hands me the award, and he goes, “Oh my God, I never knew what you did.” And so imagine Big Bird saying to you, “I never knew what you did.” And that was terrifying. Every time I hear Big Bird’s voice, or Kermit’s voice, or Grover --- it freaks me out, because I was a big Grover fan when I was a kid. Those are the times when you’re like, Whoa, this is surreal.  

[kimmyiewrites]

Case Closed ~ Chpt 10

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AN: So let's just say I'll never actually be on a schedule because clearly no matter my intentions, it doesn't work out that way. I've got two more chapters written after this one and a third possibly halfway through. We'll see cause we are truly into following along with the Braindead episodes now. So without further ado, enjoy this next chapter!

Bex traipsed down her stairs, making her way to her car so she could head into work. She had lunch plans with Rochelle to get the evidence later and the morning was hers besides the quick briefing with the team working the case on the inside of the bureau. Dinner with Mike had been amazing. Just reminiscing about it had put her in a good mood once she woke up.

They had decided on something a little more casual which meant they both left their blazers in the car. Mike also ditched the tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt before rolling up the sleeves. Bex honestly could have just dragged him home right then. Instead, she placed a kiss to his cheek before looping her arm with his as they walked into the restaurant.

It was one of the places he frequented before he went back to Graceland. According to Mike, it was the best pizza in the DC area. The moment Bex took a bite, she wholeheartedly agreed. "How did I not know of this place before?" She asked in the middle of her second bite.

Mike chuckled. "Clearly I'm more of a pizza connoisseur than you are." He teased her.

She smiled at the memory and at how before they went their separate ways, he gave her a kiss goodbye that left her both breathless and wanting more. She didn't mind taking things at a slow pace. She enjoyed truly getting to know Mike. Sure the kissing was nice and she'd be more than happy to share a bed with him but her past relationships had been solely for work or purely physical. She hadn't explored a relationship where she had more than that type of connection in a long time and it thrilled her.

Just as she unlocked her car door, her phone began to ring. Seeing that it was Mike, a smile lit up her face before she answered it. "Good morning."

"Good morning." He replied. "I know we just had dinner last night and if we lived lives outside of the Bureau my friends would tell me it's far too soon to call and ask you on a coffee date and your friends would call me a clinger but I would call you anyway like I'm doing now and I'm hoping that you'll still say yes."

Bex giggled. "I still say yes. Where do you want to meet? I'm about to head in, now."

"Well, here's the thing, I'm turning on your street now and I've already picked up the coffee." He sounded sheepish.

That caused her to laugh as she locked her car. "You know, this is getting into stalker territory." She teased him.

"Would you accept that I'm trying to look out for you?" He asked as he pulled into her apartment complex parking lot.

"I would but I thought we had covered how I'm quite capable of taking care of myself." She waved when she saw his car before hanging up.

Once she was situated in the passenger seat, Mike drove off and continued their conversation. "I know. It's just I've heard some chatter and if Onofrio talked to his people about your involvement, I'm just worried about some measures they could potentially take since they can get pretty extreme."

Bex had picked up the coffee cup and took a sip, smiling at how it was her regular order. "Then I guess I can allow it." She reached over and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. "Thanks for the mocha, by the way."

"You're welcome." He smiled over at her. "So, what do you have planned for today?"

"Briefing this morning and then lunch with Rochelle then my afternoon is open. How about you?"

"I will probably be dealing with the aftermath of yesterday. If you feel compelled to come save me after your lunch I would greatly appreciate it." He chuckled.

She laughed as well, nodding her agreement. "You got it."

Once they reached the Bureau's office building, Bex leaned over and gave him a quick kiss goodbye. "Thanks for the ride."

Mike smiled. "Don't mention it. I'll see ya later."

"Bye." She gave him another kiss before making her way into the office.

She headed to her desk first, putting all of her things down. She then grabbed what she would need for the briefing and her coffee cup before making her way to Marchant's office. "Morning, Director." She greeted as she stepped inside, taking a seat from across his desk.

"Morning, Morris. Let's talk about yesterday, shall we?" He asked, leaning back in his seat, hands folded over his stomach.

"Which part, sir? The one where we nearly used torture on an innocent woman or the fact that high frequency signals can cause senators to run into walls or raise both of their arms?" She raised an eyebrow in a 'don't think I forgot' fashion.

Marchant let out a sigh. "You say innocent but she's been linked to so many incidents."

"Important to the investigation, does not mean guilty and you know it. Miss Healy has some rotten luck but she's further along in the investigation you first sent Warren to look into."

"So what happened at the hearing? And how does that prove our Area 51 case?"

"I honestly think you should just call in one of their agents, director. I'm going to meet with Rochelle at lunch to get all of their evidence. I also need to speak with the doctor they contacted at the CDC. Because what happened yesterday was practically the icing on the cake. They recorded some of the infected persons communication and played it back in parts which caused the running into walls and hand raising. The creatures inside the infected communicate via high frequencies that human ears can't normally detect."

The director pinched the bridge of his nose. "The guys out in Nevada are going to have a field day. So what she said about bug people..." He trailed off, not really wanting to believe it.

"Bugs have eaten people's brains, yeah, and they're causing the head explosions. The bugs were in the meteor and they're infecting people but no one's really sure as to why."

"That's your new objective then. Find out why they're doing this and then I'll reach out to my contact out in Nevada. Keep me updated, Morris. That'll be all."

Bex stood with a nod and made her way to her desk. She didn't want to focus on the craziness that Mike's case was at the moment. She had a few things she knew she needed to wrap up with the case involving her sister's killer. Mostly paperwork so she put on a coffee shop playlist and started typing things up in her report while sipping on the rest of her mocha.

Just as she was about to go to her next page, her phone started ringing. She briefly looked over to see that it was a name on the caller id instead of a random number so she answered it. "This is Bex."

"Hey Bex! Can we reschedule lunch?" Rochelle asked.

"Yeah, sure. Is everything alright?"

"Laurel stopped by and told us that Senator Wheatus saw us leaving the hearing yesterday and Gareth isn't sure what he's going to do."

Bex saved her report and started packing up. Sure, she could probably easily take Onofrio but she would rather not have to deal with HR. "What if I came to you instead? Strength in numbers and all that."

"I'd like that. I'll send you my address. See you soon."

With that they both hung up and Bex closed everything down. As she waited for her Uber ride, she called Mike. "Is my cover blown? Do I need to be on alert too?"

"I would just in case. Oh, I gotta go, mom. I'll talk to you later." Mike hung up practically as soon as Red stepped back into his office.

It didn't exactly put Bex at ease but she was a trained professional. She knew how to defend herself and how to fight. When the Uber arrived, she slid into the backseat, confirming the address and was soon being let out at the First District Apartments.

She went to knock on Rochelle's door when she noticed that it was open a crack. Bex pulled her gun and slipped inside. When she came to the spot where the floor plan opened up, she looked over to the kitchen where she saw Rochelle give the ending blow with a frozen turkey leg to some guy.

The other woman looked up, seeing Bex just as she was lowering her gun. "Call the others and I'll help you get everything sorted. Nice moves by the way." The agent said with a smile, going back to lock the door.

"I don't know if Laurel will be available." Rochelle said as she dragged the intruder over to one of the support poles in her apartment.

"Why not?" Bex hurried over and helped stand the man up and prop him against the pole.

There was a knock on the door then and Rochelle answered as she went to open it. "Because there's a possibility her dad is infected."

Bex shook her head, her heart heavy for the woman. She really was having the worst luck when it came to this whole situation.

The trio soon had the intruder taped to the pole. Gustav placed a helmet on top of the intruder's head to keep him from sending out any communication. Bex was in the kitchen with Rochelle, helping her clean up and tend to the box cutter wound that had been left on her arm. It luckily wasn't deep enough to warrant stitches but with the help of Rochelle's direction things would turn out okay and hopefully not scar.

When Gustav started questioning him and Rochelle checked his ears, Bex stayed back and watched, looking for any signs that he could be lying. Then again she was unsure if the intruder would have any of the same tells if it was true that half his brain was gone. Either way, he was very convincing.

"What do you think?" Rochelle asked as the trio huddled together.

"He's really convincing. I can't say for sure but I can call in my police contact if you'd like to press charges." Bex said. "That's the one thing he's been right about, they probably should get involved. This is starting to go against everything I signed up for when I joined the Bureau."

"Can we try a couple more things?" Gustav asked. "If we let him go and he is a bug person then we might be in more trouble than before."

Rochelle looked at Bex with a look that said what harm could be done. Bex let out a sigh and agreed. Soon "You Might Think" was playing but they put it on backwards. A knock was heard and Rochelle called out that the door was open. Laurel walked in, confused about what was happening.

"What are you doing?" She finally asked.

"It's "You Might Think" played backwards." Rochelle answered.

The intruder looked to Laurel, hoping that she would be sensible enough to help him. "Gustav is seeing what will work on him." She continued to explain.

Laurel looked to Bex. "You seriously can't be okay with this?"

"It's not one of my best decisions, but honestly I think we should call this thing off. It's clearly not working."

Gustav shook his head at Bex's answer, disagreeing completely. "No, we need to figure out what the bug people want!"

"And I agree, it's what I've been tasked to do but this isn't the way to do it." Bex argued.

Laurel sighed and turned to Gustav. "He's denying he's infected, right?"

"Yes, but he would." Gustav answered.

"So how are you gonna get him to talk?" Laurel asked.

"Can we put on some better music?" The intruder spoke up which caused Gustav to jump into action with the box cutter the intruder used before.

All three women raced over to pull Gustav away as he threatened to cut the intruder's fingers off if he didn't give them the answers they wanted. Rochelle and Laurel were on either side of him and Bex came around to get the box cutter out of his hand.

"We need to call this now. I'm going to let him go." She said, stepping back towards the intruder.

"Bex, no, he's not gonna talk to us unless we threaten him." Gustav argued.

"I think you should listen to your friend." The intruder commented.

Bex turned to look at him with a pointed look. "We don't need comments from the peanut gallery."

"Why don't we just find out who this guy is instead? You would need that for a report, right?" Laurel turned to Bex.

"Yeah and there's nothing wrong with doing a little extra research."

"So, see, there we go. Now, about my dad." Laurel said, informing the group what she had witnessed. When Rochelle mentioned him stopping sex, Laurel gathered her things and set out to find her dad's mistress.

Gustav set to digging around in the bag that he had brought over and pulled out a small bottle of three year old whiskey. "Bex, you might want to go somewhere else for this next bit."

"You know I can get you arrested also, don't do it."

"Listen to her please. I'm in AA. I'm two years sober." The intruder pleaded.

"Where's your chip?" Rochelle asked.

"Oh, my sobriety chip, I must have left it in my other clothes." He quipped.

Bex just shook her head. How stupid could he be to answer in such a way? The moment Bex wasn't watching Gustav and Rochelle poured the whiskey down the intruder's throat. Her phone began to ring then. Seeing that it was Mike, she stepped away and answered it.

"Please tell me you're having a better day than I am." He said as soon as she picked up.

"I actually don't know if I can properly answer that question." Bex replied. "What's going on?"

Mike let out a small sigh. "I think Red is up to something. His latest witness for this committee meeting is lying. And I'm beginning to really hate that this is taking so long."

"Have we entered into an alien bug version of Independence Day?" She asked with a small laugh.

Her question got the reaction she was looking for and she smiled when she heard Mike laugh as well. "It certainly seems that way. What have you got going on?"

"A not so legal questioning. I don't know if I'm aiding in it or stopping it because no one seems to be listening to me."

Mike took a deep breath. He had done plenty of not so legal things while out in California but to hear Bex admit it he wasn't sure if he was relieved someone was finally telling him the truth or be worried.

"The person did attack Rochelle and is possibly infected so, I'm not really sure if that helps or hurts my case." She had continued until she realized that Mike was silent on the other end. "Mike? You okay? Should I have not told you?"

That pulled him out of his thoughts. "No, no. I'm glad you told me. I would rather you tell me than keep it hidden honestly." His thoughts drifted to Paige and Briggs. "Should I come over?"

Bex shook her head even if he couldn't see her. "No. Gareth can't really help because he doesn't know yet. Why don't I come see you instead? You should also probably contact Laurel so she can let her brother know about the witness."

"Yeah, I'd like that. See you soon then?"

"See you soon." Bex promised before hanging up.

[deck-of-cards-arc]

♠ - ♦ -🌹

He turned around, his line of worried sight broken just to face me. The twilight hair spilt over his eyes, only being brushed aside after he heaved his breath.

🌹 “Hey”

♠ “Hi, Rose. Oh, is your arm okay?”

“It’s fine, not the first time I’ve been struck with a sharp object in the same place.”

♠ “You saying it like it’s nothing is still worrying.”

🌹 “There’s more to be worried over, honestly. I can tell from here…”

Lou looks away, his finger twirling a strand of hair. His eyes trail back to the meeting room beside him. I feel compelled to look away as well, just to peek.

♠ “…I’m more worried for him if anything…He’s not the kind to simply stand there””

🌹 “Like a clueless child no less.”

♠ “Lost for words, I’m stunned. I don’t think he’s faced a loss this big. This isn’t like the ones before, we’re surrounded everywhere we go”

🌹 “He’ll be okay, Lou.”

♠ “You sure?”

🌹 “Positive”

I turned my head to Ai, only spotting the empty space beside us. I turned my head further, to see her besides the Joker-bound. They seemed to have stopped, head of the blonde in their hands while her own rubbed circles into their back.

Ai…she’s done well in the field so far. I’m proud of her, she’s grown quite a bit. Still…

This…this was only the start of her fight in this world. Significant scars on her back, arm and legs were the few traces of the battle from just now. They weren’t too deep, but it was a lot to patch up.

And the battle was a brief one too. Who knows how much more she might sustain if it went on for longer. If I weren’t here to drag her out in time…

And Jacques…

I never have seen them so in shambles. Hair a mess and tears welling up in their normally sparkling gold and lavender eyes. Yeah, what happened back in the house, it did happen. But seeing Fia’s bloodied body was nothing compared to the hundred from before.

The atmosphere feels heavier, with the heavy breathing echoing. One couldn’t breathe without it choking you in an iron fist.

♠ “…this one really shook us for good, hasn’t it?”

🌹 “Things are very much different now, we’ve been gone for too long. And it feels like just days”

Just as the sound of my sighs passed, sounds of clicking, clacking echoed. It bounced off the cave walls, turning all of our heads to further into caverns. With her flat heels from her burnt umber boots, a tall figure with sleek features ambled her way over to them. Her hands rested at her front, clasping ever so gently onto her long staff as if the object did not weigh anything in her palms. Her dress, dark cadmium cloth layered over pure white and black accents, was flowing behind her. The shape of her skirt was long enough to form a path behind her. Along with the dark red cape draped over her shoulders, under the curls of her long scarlet hair that outlined her chin like the frame of an artist’s finest work. Looking ahead to the group, the ethereal presence of a Hearts Sister already brought Lou a smile to his lips.

♠ “Miss Le Fond!”

♥ “Your highness.”

-To which Evequeline answered with a bow.

Lou scrunched his face for only a second. He wasn’t so keen on the royal salutations but he put on a smile anyway.

🔥 “Hey, Miss High Priestess, haven’t seen you in a while...” Ai greeted as well, tone as flat as ever

♥ “Me neither, little one. I’m glad to see you all safe and sound” She brushes her hair from her cream milky skin like it hasn’t been so groomed enough.

🌹 “Safe, yes. But not exactly sound.”

♥ “At least all of you did well to fend off the armies so we could retreat. We appreciated your efforts just in time.”

🌹 “Thanks, I guess.”

♥ “Do any of you need any medical attention? Or perhaps food, there should be plenty from the neighbouring town. Blessings upon them for being generous to let us stay in the vicinity.”

🔥 “I think some of us need a rest…just for a bit…”

♥ “Very well, come with me. I’ll bring you to the quarters”

Ai nodded, helping Jacques up from the wall to follow. I began to take a step forward before I realised I didn’t hear any steps behind me. Lou barely had moved from the entryway, his head back to looking longingly away.

🌹 “You want to stay?”

♠ “I don’t want to leave him yet.”

🌹 “Can’t fault you for that, I guess…Well, if you’re not leaving then so am I”

♠ “H-Huh?”

🌹 “Or do you perhaps want some alone time?”

♠ “O-Oh, uh, I don’t want you to push you away if you want to see Morgan after this. He’s your friend too, after all.”

🌹 “I’m fine with leaving you two love birds alone, you two could use it”

♠ “Ah, eh…it’s okay, I’m fine with you staying”

🌹 “Settles it then”

I turned back around, pressing my back again to the cave wall. Charcoal hair spilt over my shoulder, ice blue eyes looking back and forth between the stone floors and the source of the babble just beside me. Soft candlelight illuminating the space, warmness to contrast the chilling crawls up my spine. I could just hear the frosted words coming from the second-in-commands in the room, every piece of news they laid upon was another cut. I couldn’t imagine how Morgan must’ve been thinking. I could have a general silhouette formed in my head but it was too much of a blurry shadow than anything. He spent a day dancing under the glorious sun while the rest of the resistance caved into the fell step of the Rouge Kingdom. And so, they resorted to caves because of it. Looking over to Lou, I couldn’t fathom what ran in his head either. They let what they cared for be reduced to almost dust. Though unlike Morgan, I could try to sharpen the blurry silhouette.

🌹 “Lou…are you doing okay?”

♠ “Not really…I’m thinking over everything. How are we going to get the resources we need? How are we going to make out next move?… How the king is going to react to this…”

🌹 “He’s not going to be positive towards it, that’s for sure”

♠ “Obviously. I’m over him taking control of my life but…he’s definitely going to drag me back as soon as he knows I’ve returned from Earth”

🌹 “He won’t, we won’t let him at least”

♠ “…thanks, I really appreciate that”

🌹 “Hey, if that dick thinks he can just come to collect you and hurt you again, he’ll get it”

♠ “That’s at least a consolation in such trying times. Right now, I just want my focus on just one thing”

He turned back to the room, his lips tightly pressed together.

🌹 “Let me guess, him?”

♠ “I’m predictable, aren’t I? I just…I just want him to be okay. Level-headed at least through this. Maybe not now, but soon.”

“He better be. The resistance needs him to be, more than anything”

♠ “I just…am hoping for the best for him. All eyes are on him, after all.”

🌹 “I’m hoping too…but he’s confident. He’s clever and he’s crafty. I’m sure he’ll pull through. After all, you’ve seen how he is, haven’t you?”

Lou lifts his head, his sapphire eyes focused onto me. I could’ve sworn I saw the shines in the jewels return, glisten like the fragment of the stars they once were.

♠ “I have. And he impresses me more than anything. Yeah…he’ll be alright”

I feel the smile creep back to my face. At last a glimmer of hope, in this dreary dark cave. And soon, it becomes darker, the candlelight fading. With that, the steps of the people trotted right of the room. I had to pull Lou aside so he wouldn’t get trampled by them. Left and right, their scampers echoed. Their faces passed us both, all going in their separate directions. But none of their faces was the one we recognised. Lou peeled himself from the wall, head of the twilight peeking around back to the meeting room. And within it, was a space already attempting to thrive of flora.

The commander had already tossed his seeds around, with the flower vines crawling up the stone. And there he was, standing with papers scattered over the makeshift table of crates. Holding down the papers were the cutter of instruments strewn about. Sticks of chalk, callipers, compasses, rulers, quills and many, many pots of ink. A map was held up loosely by vines pressing the sheet of parchment against the wall. In the middle of the room, darting between each crate of the papers, was Morgan. Grassy green cape tossed aside, revealing his leather and black cloth under armour. Twirling his brunet hair, his head kept whipping to every possible direction. The mutterings under his breath were repeated and much faster than before. I turned to my side, seeing Lou helplessly watching as the commander raced past him multiple times. It wasn’t until I made a simple coughing sound that Morgan stopped for a second. Mere second to whip his head around and eye the prince and the earth dweller standing awkwardly in the entryway.

♦ “Oh hey, you two!”

♠ “Morrie, how did it already get so messy, the rest had just left the room-“

♦ “Can’t answer, trying to focus…Were you waiting outside this whole time?”

🌹 “Yes, we have”

♦ “Aww, that’s sweet. But uh- Chérie, Rose, you should probably sleep? It’s late out, isn’t it?”

♠ “And you?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine, I just gotta plan for our next move. The essence of time and all that. After all, our sources to the rest of the lands are cut off. We can’t receive any sort of help from the Noir kingdom without them being trampled too. I’ll uhh, brief you all in the morning once I have a solid plan in place-“

♠ “Morrie, how much you have to plan”

♦ “Uh…hmmm. Well…”

🌹 “Morgan.”

♦ “There’s a lot of aspects to consider, lots of options to play. But this is fine, this is fine, I can ma- Whoops!“

♠ “M-Morrie, careful! You’re rushing everywhere!”

🌹 “Jeez, Mona, what are you even doing?”

♦ “Just have to think, just have to think, it works better when I have plants around at least”

🌹 “Explains the seeds everywhere-“

♠ “But you should be sleeping, we have the morning to do something.”

♦ “But-“

🌹 “Okay, Morgan, calm down. You’re panicking. And it seems like you’re not thinking straight. Not really a benefit for planning”

♦ “No, I’m not? I’m fine, just let me work stuff out“

♠ “Morgan-“

♦ “I’ll be fine!”

🌹 “Morgan…”

♦ “It’s going to be fine, Just lea-“

***THWACk***

It…well wasn’t the best of choices to hit Morgan in the head with the hilt of my sword as he ducked away for parchment. And it didn’t help that Lou was standing there horrified, eyes widened as he stared at the unconscious body on the cave floor. Understandable reaction afterwards, though-

♠ “EST-IL MORT? QUEL GENRE DE MERDE AS-TU FAIT??”

🌹 “He’s fine…for now at least.”

♠ “Y-you sure???”

🌹 “As I much as I can be, it was just a blow to the head. Do you know where the sleeping quarters are?”

♠ “Yeah, I do. I think I passed his a few steps ago. Uhm...Are you going to-“

🌹 “Carry him? Yes”

As I said, I lifted him up and draped him over my shoulder like a rag doll. For someone taller than me, he’s to fireman carry, at least when the living daylights were forcefully smacked out of him. The Spades-bound simply gave him a head pat for reassurance, tousling his unkempt brunet hair before his steps lead me away. Heaving, I traversed down the caverns with him.

We all travelled deeper into the cave, me only being distracted by the stalactites looming over us. Normally, one would be amazed by the spacious caverns. Maybe by the flowing streams of the water through the walls and the like. But my mind was adrift elsewhere, wandering the spaces far beyond the cave. How could I not, as I twirl my charcoal black hair in my fingers? I would be here much longer than expected, not that I wanted to leave any of them behind. This resistance would need everything to get back on its feet.

Not before long, the stepping sound on the stone came to a halt, so did I. Lou stood just adjacent to the open entry to the quarters. Since it was a cave, after all, the “room” was an open floor plan, one could say. The considerably small beds were simple, strewn and strung together hay clumps packed together by whatever solid building scraps that were salvaged. Pillows were substituted with sacks of more straw and blankets were seemingly replaced with the crew’s rags. The floor was ornamented with few wooden boxes, filled with rations, a leather quiver of arrows and a crafted bow. The only other attractions were the unlit candle just beside the bed and the spilt sacks of seeds dumped so dispiritingly in the corner, with only some sprouting early. Overall, not something I was used to but what else did I even expect?

I hobbled my body over to the hay bed, dumping the body onto the golden pile. I sat down at the edge of the wooden frame, releasing and taking in a long deep breath. I could hear the planks creak as Lou gripped the frame next to me before settling on a seat. Us both sat in the silence that hung above us, like the haunting shadowy shapes of the spikes on the ceiling. I gulped the awkward tension down my throat, barely swallowing it just to say at least something to him.

“You should sleep first. I mean there’s not much of room to spare on this one, so I guess you can take this one”

♠ “R-right...”

🌹 “Is…something wrong? He’s going to be fine when he wakes up, Lou”

♠ “It’s not that, it’s…just now…”

🌹 “That was…a whiplash to witness, yeah”

♠ “Normally, yeah, I do care a lot for his well-being and safety. But now, that conviction feels…heightened. Like more, a lot more, after seeing that”

“He might just need some rest, he did just come back after the dance and fighting off the Rouge Armies. Just be with him when he wakes. After all, I don’t know anyone else he might like to see first thing in the morning”

♠ “What? No, I’m sure there are more people he’d like to see once he wakes. You're his friend, he’d like to see you. I think? Or Jacques, the two became closer since he was tasked with the resistance. Oh, Ai? They seem like buddies”

🌹 “No- Lou-, you know why it's you he wants to see. Specifically you.”

…

♠ “Oh it's because I kissed him”

I didn’t even notice my hand automatically on my forehead for just a second as he finally pieced it together.

“He loves you, Lou. You're technically his boyfriend now, ohmygod-“

♠ “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m still getting used to that! The whole love thing, I still don’t get much of it”

🌹 “It’s okay. If it helps, I can guess that you’ve loved him for a long time. Just took you a while to realise it, no?”

♠ “I suppose, that’s right…And I think he's loved me for a long time as well, so it shouldn’t be so different from the usual.”

🌹 “Just go sleep with him, you goof”

♠ “Okay, okay, I’m getting to that.”

🌹 “Night, you two”

♠ “Au revoir à demain!”

Stood up from the wooden plank frame, I made my way over to the exit whilst my hand fluttered a wave goodbye. And with that, I resided back to the caverns amongst the drops of shimmering water that dotted the walls like precious stones from a mine. I couldn’t help but feel the need to touch them, excavate them as if they were the gems they appeared to be. My breaths were nothing but cold clouds that brushed my face as I navigated the caverns. I couldn’t help but brush my hand through my charcoal hair again, to be lost in the sea of the thoughts again. I didn’t even know where my legs decided to drag me to whilst my mind ventured elsewhere. Still, I couldn’t think of much else.

What happened earlier, and what happened before that…

Now that I thought more into it, there weren’t many good options to pick before the resistance could crawl out of the corner they were thrown into.

It was already unexpected enough that some of the Hearts-bound still were within the control of the king, driving them away was already a hassle in it of itself.

Even the High Priestess of the Hearts couldn’t have expected their betrayal of their fellow sisters and brothers, as she said.

I could only wonder as I wandered the cavern. To find me back to the meeting room before long. The room was still the cluttered mess as we had left it. I heaved a sigh. If he were to come back here in the morning, then I suppose he’d prefer it to be clean. Was a good thing that at least magic worked in this world, I thought as I snapped my fingers. I watched the pens pick themselves up and marched into a collective neat pile on the cracked open crates. The ink pots lifted from the ground, the spilt darkness from those pots too. They arranged themselves in their spot in between the orderly dancing chalk and rolling pencils. I picked up the parchments with the scribbled letters on my own. I took my sweet time with those, using that time to look upon the written scratches on them. I didn’t expect such disorder sprayed across the page like a half-assed toss of salt into the pan. But the words and diagrams I could make out were nothing short of fascinating. Lists of notes of tiny details, in such tiny handwriting. The small drawings on the sides were illegible at best but they were a treat nonetheless into the commander’s head. Taking the papers and neatly packing them together, I set the pile aside. As I did, I noticed the streaks of green crawl up the stone. They moved so quickly on their own, but their frail forms couldn’t reach so far ahead. I touched a vine, letting it slither past my finger.

♠ “MOOOOORRRRRRRRIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

I whipped my head around, hearing the ever familiar voice and nickname reverberating just behind her

🌹 “Lou?”

♠ “ROSE! ROSE! WHERE’S MORGAN?”

🌹 “He’s, uh, not here. Wait, did he just disappear?”

♠ “He did, he did! I just woke up and he was just GONE. And he left his card with me, that breaks the first rule of the Card-bounds. AND HE NEVER BREAKS THAT.”

🌹 “Well shit, I don’t know if the guy can catch a break-“

♠ “I thought so too, that’s why I ran over here. You haven’t seen him in here?”

“No? I didn’t see anyone in here since I came in. If he teleported here, I couldn’t have known though. The place was a mess”

♠ “Oh no, what if he teleported to somewhere dangerous? WITHOUT BACKUP!?”

🌹 “I don’t think he'd run away, not when we need him now. So he shouldn’t be far…but this is a cave.”

♠ “Right, right…”

🌹 “Okay, I’m going to teleport around the cave and see where-“

♠ “Wait…wait, I think I know he might be.”

🌹 “You do? Already?”

♠ “Remember what he said in here? When he was panicking?”

🌹 “When there were seeds everywhere…”

♠ “Can you teleport us to outside the cave, I know where a bunch of them are.”

I nodded, placing a hand on the Jack of Spades’ small shoulders and snapping my fingers with the other.  A blink later, and the sky was open to us. The darkness above us, painted with blue and pale white streaks of midnight across the clouds. The soft luminance of the moon, coupled with the splatter and splash of the stars across the canvas. But it was no time to be distracted by the night sky just yet. Not even by the soft winds whistling by or the lights of the night owls in the town just far off in the distance. Not when my arm was already being dragged away to the west. Crinkling the grass beneath our feet as Lou led me away, I heaved my short breaths trying to keep up. For someone so small, he was fast on his feet. And it didn’t take long before we reached a forested area. It wasn’t too heavy with trees, but the ones that did grow there were taller than what I've seen before. They could pierce the painted sky above us so easily. Their branches stretching far and wide, hugging the spaces below in the gentle shade. I didn’t even notice the trees were here. Nor did I notice the rustling of leaves just behind us. It was only when the arrow had flown past us, stabbing the trunk of the tree in a flash that I realised he was here already.

♠ “MORRIE!”

Out from the side of another lumbering tower of nature, the aforementioned poked his head out

♦ “Oh, shoot, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

🌹 “I thought you were a good shot, Mona”

♦ “I am, I am! I wasn’t going to kill both of you with that, I’m not that crazy!”

🌹 “Okay, dude chill-“

♠ “You were already going to kill me with worry… Running off without me knowing, really?”

♦ “I thought you were tired, guess not. Heh, I suck at even guesswork.”

♠ “Morrie, what's wrong, you're not…like this. You don’t disappear without warning…you don’t just leave your things like your card out…And you don’t just leave me like that…”

♦ “Chérie, I’m fine, I just…I just can't stop thinking-“

🌹 “About the Rouge kingdom? About what they did.”

♦ “…yeah”

🌹 “Morgan, none of it was your fault-“

♦ “THEN WHO ELSE JUST LEFT THE RESISTANCE TO FALL APART LIKE THIS? I let my self get too comfortable in Earth, I let everyone be defenceless and look what happened. I got complacent. I lost almost everyone. I’m a horrible leader, Rose, now everything is has gone to shit.”

Lou backed up, shoulders dropped and sapphire eyes widened. I still stood rooted to the ground, though my feet were willing to back away too.

🌹 “Morgan…you did all you could from Earth. It was a quiet period, no?”

♦ “Quiet doesn’t mean peaceful, I should’ve known that. I should've known more. Instead, I’m a reckless idiot who abandoned everyone…”

🌹 “There's no use beating yourself over your mistake, Morgan. If you weren’t a good leader then, be a good leader now. And trust me, you are one.”

♠ “Morrie, she’s right…and please don’t worry, we’re still here.”

♦ “I …I lost half of them, what if I lose you all too…”

♠ “You won’t, we’ll all be here. We’re not going to leave you…I won’t ever leave. I promised that to you, didn’t I?”

♦ “…that you'd stay with me, even against your father’s wish?”

♠ “Even against the world…Morrie, I’m not going anywhere. We’ll win this war together. I’ve seen you do amazing things, even as only an Ace. Even before you were bound! So I know…you’ll do great.”

♦ “…chérie…”

The Diamond-bound let out a heavy breath, making his steps towards Lou and ruffling his twilight hair. Pressing his forehead to his, I knew I could see the gentle smile peeking through.

♦ “I love you”

♠ “I love you too, Morrie.”

I felt a little guilty for being an audience to the two, simply standing there with arms crossed and a smile spread across my face. But I wouldn’t lie by saying I wasn’t heart warmed by the sight. I was going to step away, snap my fingers back to the cave. But-

♠ “Hey, c’moooon, you get a hug too”

🌹 “Wh-, Who me?”

Before I had much more to retort with, the winds “mysteriously” pushed me to the pair. A little too forcefully, as I crashed both of them to the grassy dirt. The night was less quiet now, filled with our laughter erupting all so suddenly in our hug pile. It was strange really, to be so happy now. With whatever to be scheduled tomorrow. But none of us was going to complain after all. It was a good night. A good night which we were happy enough to sleep through once we finished our pile

---

> Next morning