Newsies 1. Mayor's Daughter

"I don't know if this is such a good idea, Eleanor." Eleanor lay on her bed, still clad in her Saturday brunch finery. She was sprawled out, her left arm outstretched and her right covering her eyes. Louise glared at her and crossed her arms, running a small hand through her straight brown hair. She wanted nothing to do with the horrid idea that the blonde girl was suggesting. She watched in strong protest and distaste as Eleanor propelled herself from her spot on the bed, standing quickly.

"Louise, my dear, my darling, don't you worry that pretty little head of yours!" Eleanor shushed as she brought the girl under her arm. "It's a wonderful idea that you've just had. Thank you for reminding me. Supporting their cause would just be the kind of morale that they need, I suspect." Louise watched in disgust as a smirk stretched across the blonde's rosy lips, subsequently filling her with a strong sense of foreboding. She knew that she was right. Supporting those boys was the right thing to do in the moral sense of the matter. What Mr. Pulitzer and Mr. Hearst were doing to those poor boys was inhumane, from what that factory girl was telling them. But what Eleanor had in mind was more than likely anything but moral, and Louise didn't want anything to do with the ulterior motives that her friend was harboring.

"I- Ellie, I was joking! You can't possibly think that I would think that this- this _idea_, one that I may or may not even have had, mind you, is a good one. You yourself shouldn't even be thinking that! Can you even imagine what it would do to your fathers campaigning if newspapers discovered you there?!" Louise stared the Mayor's daughter down, looking into her eyes, imploring her to make the right decision. "I understand that what is happening is wrong. I do, I absolutely do. I want to support them, but Eleanor this is really not the time. This November your father could be reelected into office or he could not, and frankly if his daughter is seen gallivanting through the streets of Manhattan with some poor Newsboys who are really making a mess of things for Mr. Pulitzer and Mr. Hearst, it could go poorly for him." Eleanor simply shrugged. If her father refused to help these poor boys, she would absolutely act out in protest. Despite what the desperately pleading brunette in front of her was implying, her reasons for wanting to help were predominantly pure.

"You're all for helping people, Lou, except when the opportunity presents itself. You're entirely talk and no action sometimes. Forget that our fathers and their friends run this city, forget the politics, forget the fact that this is going against exactly what good little ladies should be doing, but most of all forget the fact that you think I'm acting like some common tart. Because, frankly, I'm really just seeing what this whole strike business is about. I want to see what is so important about a lousy cent." Louise blanched and suddenly was wracked with guilt, thinking of the invite that Sarah, a nice girl in the shop they were in a few days prior, had given them after they spotted her some money for that book that she was eyeing up.

They knew she didn't want to take their money, more than likely viewing it as a form of charity, but they had insisted. Stubbornness was one of Louise's less finely tuned qualities, rearing its head when she refused to take no for an answer at her offer. Bashfully, the brunette shop worker bought her book, and walked out of the shop with the girls. Sarah, after telling the girls she was a factory girl living in Manhattan, told them about the Newsie's and their strike. They were appalled to hear that something so terrible was happening, and in their own city! They had spent the day together, discussing with each other strike news, eventually branching into less serious topics that demonstrated that they had a few things in common, despite the apparent class barriers that should have been in place. Sarah ended with telling the pair that she needed to get home for supper, but that the upcoming Saturday they should "really go to Irving Hall to watch the boys speak about the strike." They hadn't ever been there, and were both a little confused. Noticing this, she told them to come to her home that day to get ready together, ensuring that they wouldn't seem odd showing up out of the blue, giving them a solid connection to the strike.

Louise thought Sarah was a dear, but attending a rally seemed a lot like the opposite of the publicity the two girls needed. Louise's father might not have been the Mayor of New York City like Eleanor's, but her legal guardian was a very prominent man in New York high society. Certainly Seeing Mayor Robert Van Wyck's daughter and Andrew Carnegie's niece partaking in already controversial strike activity would be big news for The World. If it wasn't the prominent newspaper that publicized their activity, high societies' circle of gossip would spread the sighting like wildfire. She didn't want to cause her uncle any grief, but she knew that her friend was right. Sarah would be expecting them, and seeing what they could do to help these boys was the least they could do.

"Alright, you're right. You're right and I'm sorry. I'm almost as bad as my sister, looking out for nothing but my reputation." Eleanor smiled triumphantly and opened her mouth to speak, but Louise fixed her with a sharp look and a raised finger. "But we have to be careful about this. This is not a joke. This is not a ball, where everyone is groomed to put on a front of kindness and gentility, where you fall within the same social class as everyone else. These boys very well might hate us, simply for the very fact that we are girls of our station. We need to dress more simply. We need to look like we belong. Perhaps we should discuss with Sarah about concocting a rouse that we work with her at the factory." Louise paced back and forth, "Although, perhaps we should tell the truth. Or tell the truth through emission. We don't have to tell them who our fathers are. It would still benefit us to dress more plainly than usual, of course."

Eleanor squealed and threw herself into the shocked arms of the nervous girl. "You won't regret this, Lou! I promise! You really won't!"

"Oh dear, I hope you're right." She said as she neared Ellie's wardrobe to ensure that the girl picked out something that was appropriate. She was met with vibrantly colored dresses, most within the current style. "Do you have anything that you deem to be slightly plain, Ellie?" The blonde pulled out a blue dress, one that was in style two years ago, according to the statement that she accompanied with it. The brunette shook her head and eyed a mint green dress in the far back, a white sash lining the middle. She pulled it out and handed it to her friend, who, despite the way that they both know her long blonde hair and blue eyes would complement the almost flattering dress, crinkled her nose in mild disgust. Then, taking further initiative, she looked for something just as fitting for herself.

Ten minutes of searching later, she hoped she wouldn't live to regret her decision as she slid on a dress that was a size too small. She wasn't quite as lanky as her companion, but she wasn't much larger than her, either. She hoped that the dress would do her justice as she looked in the mirror, twirling a curly, brown lock on her finger, feeling out of place in her "new" fashion. After doing some light makeup, the pair gave half-hearted excuses to the Wyck family butler and snuck out into the early evening, making their way downtown and directly to the residence of one Sarah Jacob's.


	2. Medda's

"Sarah, are you sure? Are you sure we look okay?" Louise was nervous. Of course, she wasn't entirely ready for the potential of publicity in the form of newspaper men, but she was mostly concerned about keeping all attention from herself. Her Uncle would be quite upset, not to mention this action could be seen as downright rebellious. Louise hated stirring up attention. She looked up as she started to hear a distant raucous. Assuming it was the newsboys preparing for their rally, she felt even more apprehensive than before. She knew they weren't boys of her… social class, but she hadn't really pictured them so loud. She looked up at Sarah expectantly.

"Yes, Louise! I told you. You'll blend right in. Well, as much as a girl in a dress can blend in. You see, there are a few girls who sell papers right alongside the boys. They wear pants or a ratty skirt for the most part. But those boys are used to looking at those girls." Sarah covered her mouth with her hand and giggled, "Girls in dresses, like us, might draw attention. We probably will draw attention, according to Jack-you know, the strike leader. But you look like a regular class girl, don't worry." Louise felt her cheeks get hot at the mention of _that _kind of attention, but Eleanor seemed delighted.

Eleanor loved getting attention from boys, but she was slightly embarrassed by her attire. She was used to wealthy boys with more money than sense. Always dressed extravagantly when she attended social functions, at the instance of her mother, she felt almost like she was in a nightgown. Finding a wealthy boy was important. It was sensible.

"Yes, really Louise. Calm down. There's nothing to worry about, dear." The rally appeared to be right up ahead. Boys from every borough held up signs, hawking derivatives of the word "strike" instead of headlines. Despite Sarah's reassurances on the way over, Louise and Ellie felt slightly uneasy at the thought of being surrounded by these boys. Sarah touched both of their arms as they went through the front door of the theater. Despite the horde of boys waiting outside, they figured that Sarah's brother's friends had saved them each a seat.

"Sarah!" Louise heard a boy's voice call. The boy sat at a table, waving his arm and directing them towards three empty seats. Louise felt grateful. It was a small comfort. Sarah trusted these boys and it was the least she could do but trust them, too. Next to the brunet male was another boy, curly haired and slightly more well-dressed than the rest. He looked like Sarah. "Sarah, am I glad to see you! And these are your friends?"

"Yes. David, Jack, this is Louise and this is Eleanor." Each girl waved respectively, and the boys returned the gesture. "They work at the factory with me." The girls nodded and sat down. It was odd to not have a man to pull out their chairs for them, but they didn't miss a beat.

"Thank you so much for inviting us." Eleanor looked over Sarah at Jack and David, smiling graciously. Louise envied her social skills. She nodded her agreement and smiled, making brief eye contact with David. She could feel her cheeks tinge pink. Her shyness was nothing to envy.

"Well, any friend of Sarah's is a friend of ours." Jack responded. "Just so happens that you're just as interested in the Strike as we are, or so David told me. I have taught him a thing or two about improving the truth, so don't hold it against me. How do you ladies like workin' there, huh?" Jack asked. Eleanor was floored slightly by the question, and her eyes widened. Louise grimaced slightly before opening her mouth to speak.

"We uh- well, it's- it's a way to make money. It's a nice income and it helps feed my family. I know Ellie feels the same. My father he- uh, he lost his job a while back and it's all I can do to help." She shrugged, feeling foolish. She felt Ellie squeeze her hand. She hoped these boys interoperated her stuttering for nervousness instead of improvisation.

"That's good of you." David said, looking up from his hands. "Our father," he gestured between Sarah and himself, "got injured on the job. These rich guys have no use for an injured worker." He shrugged. Louise felt the sting of that insult, but the girl made herself smile and nod. After all, she had heard it out of the mouths of some of her father's friends. He wasn't wrong, but it still made her feel like she was guilty of something terrible. She knew her privilege wasn't her fault, but she couldn't help but feel like there was something she could do, or something she could change. "But we are doing something to change it. Jack's almost like a modern day Robin Hood."

Taking from the rich and giving to the poor was a nice sentiment, Ellie noted. Although this whole conversation was a little more of a personal attack than she had thought she would encounter, it certainly was informative. She had no idea how long she was quiet before she looked up to see a woman step onto the stage. The resulting cheer was deafening. "That's Medda." Someone to her other side leaned in to whisper to her. She jumped at the rough, male voice that belonged to neither Jack nor David. She nodded, "She's a performer from Sweden. She's damn good, too." She didn't turn around as the woman began to sing. It was beautiful. The opera singers she had heard were beautiful and talented as well, but the struggles the woman sang about were a reality for these boys. It was nice to hear about, she supposed. The boy behind her was loudly singing and she turned around, a smile gracing her face as he asked her to dance. She nodded her consent and they began to dance. It was much quicker and less finely tuned than what she was used to, but it wasn't bad. Her grimy dance partner smiled broadly at her, and she returned it just as fully. She felt free. She didn't feel the confines of societal norms. Looking behind her, she met Louise's scandalized stare.

The boy continued to sing and she turned around and smiled. His voice was not bad. It was actually fairly good, she noted. His dancing was much looser than she was used to, and his hand was just a tad too low for propriety standards, but it was all okay. It was the kind of thing that was adventurous enough that it didn't get her into the kind of trouble her mother had warned her about, but it was fun. It was harmless, and she couldn't find it in her to care that the boy had an eye patch. It made him seem rugged, different than the high society boys. Their perfect, proper hands and their perfect, porcelain faces were growing old. She wanted something different. She was the Mayor's daughter, but she was tired of being treated like it.

"I'm Ellie." She said finally as she sat back down in her seat. Their dance was over, but she wanted to talk to him a bit. He smiled and introduced himself as well.

"I'm Kid Blink. Blink is good too, though." She smiled. His accent was thick and made him seem even more different than what she was used to. It was… nice. Louise clutched her hand as Sarah's brother and his friend stood up to speak.

The hush fell over the crowd, and the girls listened intently. Louise didn't like the way that that boy flung himself at Ellie. Her mother had told her that boys- she shook her head. She decided she wanted to go into this whole thing with an open mind. She wanted her friend to be safe, but maybe these boys weren't the trash her aunt had always taught her they were. The boys were well spoken. They got their thoughts across with a sort of lower class grace. It was beautiful. Their oddly well-spoken speeches were important. It gave this whole strike a meaning to these boys, and the more she listened the more meaning it gave to her. She wanted to be of as much service as she could without identifying herself as wealthy. She feared that if she did, they would hate her for it. She didn't want that. She didn't want that at all.


End file.

Newsies, Friendship, Romance