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I’d love to be in love with you enough to write a love song
I need to feel needed and I need it more than I let on
“Hey…” One shake. “Hey…” Another shake. “Hey!” A slap.
King jolted awake and sat up quickly, eyes narrowed as he tried to make out his attacker in the darkness. He relaxed slightly when he realized it was his “brother” Sam. He always sucked at waking people up, back at the orphanage he used to flip his mattress over to wake him up.
“What was that for?”
“To wake you up.”
“Why? The bell hasn’t rung and the sun is barely even up,“ he whined.
“Spot wants to see ya.”
“Why didn’t he just get me himself?” King grumbled, pulling himself out of his bunk.
“Because you’d probably punch him if he tried to wake you up. Or he didn’t wanna come down into this hellhole. I don’t know, shortie. Just go up there before I steal your cigars.”
“You bought them for me!” He hissed quietly as he heard others shift in their bunks. If he woke someone he’d have to deal with a pissy newsie and somebody yelling at him.
“Just fucking go.”
“I am, I am..” he rolled his eyes, tugging a tattered red shirt on.
“Go faster, Ise tired.”
“I can tell.“
"Bitch.”
“Jerk,” King finished as he made his way towards where he believed the stairs were. He couldn’t really tell as it was dark as hell. He felt his way along the wall until he found the space. After tripping a good five times, he reached the top of the stairs.
He knocked on the first door he felt. He’d been up there once before, and that was when Sam showed him around for the first time when was what, twelve? He didn’t remember and he didn’t have time. There were only two doors up there and he assumed that the first one would be the most important one.
I’ll be home, just thinking about it
Maybe call like I used to
“Come on in,” a hoarse voice replied as King turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. The room before him looked somewhat pale and empty with just tan walls and floors and only a dresser and a bed. It looked better than the room downstairs anyway. Less cramped, a nicer looking bed. What he wouldn’t do for something like that.
Spot stood a few feet away from the door, pacing and looking lost in thought. There were deep dark circles under his eyes and it was clear he hadn’t stopped thinking to eat. He didn’t blame him. To be a leader meant you had to sacrifice anything and everything to make sure your people were okay.
“Sa- Flare said ya needed to speak with me?” he asked, closing the door gently behind him.
He nodded, pausing his actions. “I need ya to go on a run to ‘Hattan as soon as ya can.”
“Ain’t theys striking over there?”
“Mhm, and they got soaked. But they fought back. That there’s proof that they wouldn’t back down from trouble.”
“Meaning…?”
“Meanin’ that the next event they have, they can count on us to be there. We gotta support 'em.”
King nodded, that made sense. Why so early though? From what Sam told him, the Manhattan newsies loved to sleep in, they wouldn’t be up for a while.
Then it hit him. They’d probably still be awake at this time, patching up wounds and making sure they had everybody with them.
“So, ya want me to go run ova there now?”
“Yep. Tell 'em what I told you.”
“Got it. I’ll head out soon.”
“Thank you.”
As fast as he entered, he left, scampering downstairs to fetch his cap and boots. He sat on the edge of his bunk, quickly tying up his right boot.
Sam hung his head down from the top bunk. “So, what’d he say?” he whispered.
“Ise going to 'Hattan.”
“You are? For what?”
“Sendin’ a message. We’re gonna join 'em next time they need us.”
“I knew he’d cave eventually. Can I walk ya to to the bridge? We ain’t as nice as Manhattan,” Sam offered, silently climbing down from his bunk. When they first got there, King insisted on getting the top bunk. They played each other for it and he lost.
“Yeah sure, you just need to be able to handle yourself goin’ back.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
But I’ll just stay alone, because alone is safer than with you
Before King knew it, he found himself walking across the Brooklyn Bridge alone. It wasn’t so bad. The sun rose before he and Sam even made it outside so it wasn’t too scary, but he didn’t like being alone anyway. He’d never admit that though. Admitting things was something King never did. He’d rather stand on top of the lodging house than admit he was wrong. It just felt humiliating.
While the walk didn’t suck, what sucked was the terrible itching in his throat that forced him to stop every five minute and hack away over the edge of the bridge and into the river below. Nothing ever came up but it was like there was something there. Just, he couldn’t get it out so he just had to keep coughing. It wasn’t unusual for him to get sick, he had a terrible immune system so it happened often, in the winter. Getting sick in the summer was unheard of for him. That was unusual.
I like the you inconveniently
You’re squeezing out my dopamine
The lodging house for Manhattan was getting closer with each step as he began to slow down. He’d be there soon enough. He hoped he didn’t run into the Delanceys. He didn’t have Sam with him, they’d be free to beat him up and he wouldn’t be able to do anything.
Keeping his eyes focused on his destination, he continued forward. Up ahead stood their Newsies Square and a few dozen newsies. He decided he’d just talk to whoever was there instead of going all the way to the lodge. It’d shorten the trip. Before he could call out to one of them, one was already heading over to meet him. Racetrack.
The two were somewhat close. Sam had taken him to Manhattan a few times when he used to visit. He had met Race and they had gotten along pretty well. They lost touch until Race started coming around Sheepshead. The two now met up often there and chatted while betting.
“Do ya need somethin’ Brooklyn?” He asked, stopping a few feet away from him with arms crossed and a cigar hanging from his lips.
“Yeah, I got a message for…Jack? That’s his name right?” he replied, searching his brain for the Manhattan’s leader’s name. He never met him, only heard tales.
“He ain’t here right now. Didn’t take the whole "getting soaked” thing too well. I’ll take the message from him though.“
King nodded, that was understandable, seeing your boys get wrecked and knowing it was all your fault. Must’ve been terrible. He couldn’t help but feel a small pang of guilt. He didn’t control Brooklyn but he felt as though he should’ve said something or did something to try and convince Spot to join them sooner. It was too late for that now.
He let out a shaky breath and tried to take one in but ended up coughing. Crashing to his knees, he couldn’t stop. His palms scraped against the bricks, causing them to become raw. As he slowly took control of his breathing and stopped coughing, now just wheezing.
He looked up to see Race hovering over him.
"Are ya alright? Ya don’t have that weird disease thing do ya?” he questioned.
“W-what?”
“I’ve been hearing rumors down at Sheepshead. New people coming in carrying this disease. Makes ya…cough up flowers n shit. It sounds crazy but I swear to ya, I saw it in the street yesterday.” He explained, chewing nervously on his cigar. “Davey said it happens when someone don’t like ya back,” he added.
Why’d they put all their faith in this new walking mouth? He hadn’t heard too much about him but to him it seemed like they worshiped the ground he walked on.
“That’s horseshit Race.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. But I’m tellin’ ya, I saw it!”
“I think you’ve been smokin’ too much.”
“Oh and you’re one to talk,” Race retorted.
"I still have a message, dumbass.”
“Right, carry on.”
“Spot said that next event ya have, Brooklyn will have your back.”
“That’s all? Sent ya across the bridge for that?”
“Mhm. Woke me up at dawn for it too.”
Race shrugged. “Sucks to suck. Well, tell him I said thank you. Oh! And we have a plan to carry the word everywhere. A rally at Medda’s theatre. Pass that on, will ya?”
King nodded. “Alright, I’ll be headin’ back then.”
“Oh and one more thing, tell Sam I said hi. I haven’t been seeing him around lately.”
“That’s ‘cause all you do is hang out at Sheepshead.”
Race rolled his eyes. "Just get going before the Delanceys come out or something.”
“Yeah, Ise going.”
Yeah, you like me in spite of me
I feel these feelings quietly
On his way back, King stopped more often than he did before, coughing more violently than before as well. At one point he even dropped to the ground because he couldn’t hold himself up anymore as he coughed.
Then it happened.
A small, red petal came up and fluttered to the ground before him. It looked like it belonged to a…rose?
He scooped it up in a shaking hand as his brown eyes inspected it. This had to be some really, really smart and messed up prank. Someone must’ve paid Race and Sam big money for something like this. They must’ve. It had to be a prank.
He blinked a few tears away as he swallowed and shoved the petal in his pocket. He grabbed onto the bridge’s railing and heaved himself up despite his legs shaking and probably not being strong enough to hold him up. Holding onto the railing, he continued onward back home.
You’re cool but inconvenient
Now, my energy’s depleted
“Sam! How much did they pay you?” he yelled upon getting into the lodge after his day of selling. Also known as coughing and then receiving a paper for sounding sick since that’s all he really did. He held the petal tightly in his pocket as he waited for Sam to crawl out of wherever he was and reply.
Said newsie returned from the restroom moments later. “Pay me for what…?” he mumbled, walking up to his brother.
“Pay you for this,” he snapped, pulling the petal out of his pocket and pressing it into his hand.
He watched as Sam picked it up and inspected it just as he had done on the bridge. “Uh, bud, I didn’t do this…? How would I even get a flower?” he questioned, looking from King to the petal. Slowly, realization settled in and his eyes widened. He dropped the petal to the ground and grabbed the younger boy’s shoulders.
“Who is it? Who is it? When did it start? Oh my god, King. This is bad.”
“I don’t know! I don’t know!” he yelled back, his vision getting blurry with tears. “I don’t know when it started, or for who. I don’t know what it means or why it’s bad. I don’t even know what it is,” he replied, already exhausted from hearing about it.
Take a seat, babe, if you need it
Like I do, 'cause I’m defeated
Sam loosened his grip on King and slowly walked him over to their bunks and sat him down. “You’re coughing up petals, kid. Do ya know anything 'bout what that means?” he asked.
“Uh, Race said somethin’ about a disease that came over here that makes ya do it cause someone don’t like ya back. I think that’s shit though.”
“I’ve seen at least three cases of this already. It ain’t shit, King. A-and the thing is, if your feelings aren’t returned those flowers are gonna kill ya.”
“So…what are we gonna do?”
“We’re gonna find out who ya like and then make 'em like ya back. It’s a bit of a win-win kind of thing. You don’t die and ya get a girlfriend!” Max explained, hope shimmering in his blue eyes. ‘That wouldn’t last long…’ he thought.
King shot him a look.
"Or boyfriend…” he mumbled.
“Yeah, sure. That sounds real simple…”
Now, I’m cancelled, I’m whatever
I’m the best thing that you’ll never have
The poor boy had spent that whole night wondering who it could be. He had no idea. He didn’t think he had feelings for anybody in Brooklyn, or any of the boroughs. Did he see someone while selling and fall for them and didn’t even know? While he felt like he would’ve noticed, he couldn’t say that would be something he wouldn’t do.
The next day he woke later than usual to see Sam standing over him.
"What’s goin’ on?”
“Spot’s making an announcement of sorts.”
Now I’m lonely, yeah, if only
I could text you but I’m holding out
King soon found himself and the other newsies gathered outside on the docks around a bunch of crates. Spot’s throne, they called it.
“Listen boys, tonight, we’s headin’ to Manhattan. King informed me that they’re holding a rally tonight to get some attention. They need us there. So rest while you can,” their leader announced.
The boys nodded and began to disperse, except for King. He remained still, just standing there. He was mostly zoned out. How could he even get there if he was coughing and wheezing the whole time? He couldn’t just politely ask it to stop for a bit!
He was snapped out of his daze by Spot in front of him, snapping his fingers.
“Huh?”
“I said, are you alright?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts there.”
“Alright. Good. Don’t want ya passin’ out on the way to Hattan.” He gave him a smile and walked away.
King almost immediately found himself crouching over the edge of the dock coughing. Coughing, coughing and then choking until bits of a rose came up.
“Oh fuck.”
I’d love to be in love with you enough to write a love song…